Mamacumbaô, mamacumbaô
Mamacumbaô, bori
What pleases my fingers
Samba induces secrets
Turn on the light that is for see better
The curves that are well suited to the requebrado
Behind the cora comes
With its basket of oven and stove
Senegalizing its threads playing< br/>All of the same kind
It was each man for himself
And the youth for the two of us
It's time to reflect
When the baticum calls me
And you don't want me to go
You'd better capitulate
Whoever has a chest, knows
Whoever has a chest, abre
I take it to use
The clothes that have wool
I go out in costume
Imbaúba, hollow, through the streets, crazy
Parangolizing I pass
Colored with satin
Blushing until the end

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