Blazing Saddles1974

Lyle:
[Taunting the mainly-black railworkers] When you was slaves, you sang like birds. Come on! How about a good old n*gger work song?

[Enraged, the workers move to attack him, but are stopped by Bart. He promptly proceeds to sing.]

Bart:
[Crooning, Sammy Davis, Jr.-style, with fellow railworkers providing backing vocals] I get no kick from champagne... Mere alcohol doesn't thrill me at all...[the bullying supervisors look immensely confused and insulted] so why then should it be true?... that I get a belt - outta you... Some get a kick from coca-yeai-yeaiiiinnnneee...

Lyle:
Hold it! Hold it! What the hell is that sh*t?! I meant a song! A real song! Something like [singing] "Swing low, sweet chariot"...

[The railworkers mumble to each other in mock confusion]

Lyle:
Don't know that one, huh. Well how about "De Camptown Ladies"?

Bart:
De Camptown Ladies?

Railworkers:
De Camptown Ladies?

Lyle:
Oh, you know! "De Camptown ladies sing this song, doo-dah, doo-dah! Camptown Race Track five miles long, oh-de-do-da-dahy!"

[The white supervisors begin joining in, complete with ludicrous dancing actions, much to the amusement of the railworkers. Suddenly, Taggart rides in aboard a galloping horse, shooting wildly into the air, interrupting the song, and scattering the white supervisors aside.]

Taggart:
What in the Wide Wide World of Sports is a-goin' on here? I hired you people to get some track laid, not to jump around like a bunch of Kansas City faggots!