Mandinga Minha, Mandiga Rara

Tell me old black man, lord of the slave quarters
I'll sit down just so I can listen to you
Take the rope off your neck and put it on your abadá
Whiplash on the back Story I'm going to tell

My mandinga, rare mandinga, I'm going to church, I'm going to pray to Mary
My mandinga, rare mandinga jumping at night waiting for the sun to rise
My mandinga, a rare mandinga, only the warrior who lived can tell
My magic, rare magic, let the magic go boy to play
My magic, rare magic

Crouching down on the berimbau I salute
I look to the sky and ask God for protection
Before leaving the game master give permission
And with each song a pang in the heart

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

It's done, it's done, it's straight talk
Are you going to release your game or stay like concrete?
When he takes my master's gunga I will speak
He's throwing his leg just by looking