Four score and sixty-five years in the past
I won the Civil War with my beard, now I’m here to whup your ass
I’ve read up on your facts, you cure cancer with your tears
Well, tell me, Chuck, how come you never sat down and cried on your career
You’re a washed up has-been on TV, selling Total Gyms
And you’re gonna lose this battle like you lost Return of the Dragon
I’ll rip your chest hairs out, put them in my mouth
I’ll squash you like I squashed the South
I never told a lie and I won’t start now
You’re a horse with a limp, I’ll put you down