Slaves can’t relax 

‘Less massa finds he a lazy slave 

And be sold den at auction block, 

Forty bucks on an old soap box 

Black folk can’t relax.

 

White Man think he God 

ya’ll think ya'll gods

spent so many years writin’

the rules ‘bout man’s life 

then breaking ‘em;

never gave life but still take it 

and black folk can’t relax.

 

Slaves can’t never rest 'neath 

The shade of the poplar tree,

‘Less  he hanging from it. 

Finda ‘scape from burn o’ hot sun, 

Massa watch ya there, too,

Said "Get back to work!" but 

Looked all ‘round dis earth 

So his chillun never hafta work

And slaves can’t relax.