Mandinga Minha, Mandiga Rara

Tell me, old black man, I'm from the time of the slave quarters
I'll stay seated just to be able to listen to you
Take the rope off your neck and put it on your shirt
Whip on the back, stories that I will tell

My hoodoo, rare hoodoo, I'm going to church, I'm going to pray to Mary
My hoodoo, rare hoodoo, Jumping the night waiting for the sun to rise
My hoodoo, rare hoodoo, Only the warrior who lived can tell
My hoodoo, rare hoodoo, Release the hoodoo, boy, to play
My hoodoo, rare hoodoo

Squatting by the berimbau, I salute
I look up to the sky, I ask God for protection
Before going out to play, Master give permission
And with each song, a squeeze in the heart

Don't be scared, sir, it's not a ghost
It's the hoodoo thing to put your hand on the ground
The chat I have, the ear that gives me
And I live my world in the rocking chair

It's done, it's done, spoken straight talk
Will you release your game or stay like concrete?
When he grabs my master's gunga, I'll speak
He's playing the leg just by looking