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      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   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   Oh come on, it's too rock me stokly      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, yeah   Happy birthday, Abie Baby   Happy birthday to you, bang      Bang, bang, shit, I'm not dying for no white man