Letra de Stephen Foster

[Announcer]
Ladies and gentlemen, Mr. Redd Foxx
All said, folks, I want you to enjoy yourself, na'mean
Just relax, this a colored place
Just enjoy yourself, if you got a birthday coming, glory
I say that because he used to sing it, "Glory, glory"—I can't stand them numbers
Stephen Foster was a fag!
"Tilt that barge, and you lift that bale"
I ain't liftin' nothin', sucka! Write no number for me to work by, na'mean
See, Blacks had whites fooled for years with one word: boss
"Well, good night, boss" "Yassir, boss"
See, "boss" spelled backwards is double S-O-B, and there's two of 'em
That's right, "Good night, you son of a bitch, you
Worked me to death all week, and ain't paying me no decent salary
And then go to a big party and ask your friends, 'Why do they steal?'"
'Cause you wasn't paying me nothin', that's why
That's why I rolled them tires, why I put that silverware down my pants leg, and wrapped them steaks around my waist
A lot of ways to carry stuff out the job
Empty the garbage can at 11:30 at night—into your truck