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!