Where are the slaves? Who's picking the cotton?

When I'm rhyming it's all in my head... Like the slaves, when they were picking cotton, they would block out their minds. They would sing.

It beats picking cotton

When I'm rhyming it's all in my head... Like the slaves, when they were picking cotton, they would block out their minds. They would sing.

Picking a guitar was a lot easier than picking cotton.

Slavery had just broke when my grandfather was born, so he came up through it - in the backdoors, picking cotton ... trying to make a living. So he grew up with hatred in his heart toward whites, but he had to make a living off them.