J.T.R.B.

To eat, I need some money
Need that damn gringo
Don't leave me alone
There were 1 big, 2 big, 3 big policemen
Who beat you up, repress you
No money, no fun, no gringo, no rights
My people, your people are not different
They fight for food and decent treatment
Jump the river, beaner! Frijolero!
Walls of pain from a distant war
Quiet wetback, wait seated
Don't forget that by your side
San Juan Soldier is always there
Death, death, bad luck is breathed
Wetback you were born, wetback you'll be
Screw you, Mexican, and never return