Yes, I´s finished on y´all farm land with yo´ boll weevils and all,
and pluckin´ y´all´s chickens, fryin´ mother´s oats in grease. I´s
free now, thanks to yo´, Massa Lincoln, emancipator of the slaves.
Yeah, yeah, yeah, emanci-mother-fuckin-pator of the slaves.

Four score
I said four score and seven years ago
Oh sock it to ´em baby, you´re sounding better all the time!
Our forefathers, I mean all our forefathers
Brought forth upon this here continent a new nation
Concieved, conceived like we all was
In liberty, and dedicated to the one I love
I mean dedicated to the proposition
That all men, honey, I tell you all men
Are created equal

Happy birthday, Abie baby,
Happy birthday to you
Happy birthday, Abie baby,
Happy birthday to you
Bang!
Bang? Ha ha. Shit, I´m not dying for no white man.
(Tell it like it is, baby.)