Lyrics
What constitutes a ghetto?
Is it growing your own lettuces in the potholes on the road
Do the locals have to eat them all if they don't sell em
I call potholes concrete meadows of the soul
What constitutes a ghetto fetish?
Is it growing your own lettuce but not filling in the pot holes
The local council will be getting an earful believe me
I call their lugholes concrete bollards to the soul
We all make the same sound when we get mowed down
And there are starving children in Africa
So go send your toy guns to Bosnia
Take the money, take the money, take the money and run
Take the money, take the money, take the money and run
Take the money, take the money, take the money and run
Take the money, take the money, take the money
And treat your husband right
What constitutes real change
Are we even vaguely aware of when we'll terminate the muse
If all offers are final
Then how is it even possible
For you to be both flush and completely principled
Yeah well, I didn't do any of it for you
I did it for the little boys and girls
Pulling lettuce from the pot hole hosing off the engine oil
Wax apples at Christmas, next year they're sniffing glue
All of a sudden I was blinded by a powerful light
Take the money, take the money, take the money and run
Take the money, take the money, take the money and run
Take the money, take the money, take the money and run
Take the money, take the money, take the money
And treat your mother right
