You may record me in history
With your harsh, contorted untruths,
You may step me in the soil
Yet, similar to clean, I'll rise.
Does my cheekiness upset you?
For what reason would you say you are assailed with unhappiness?
'Cause I walk like I have oil wells
Siphoning in my parlor.
Much the same as moons and like suns,
With the sureness of tides,
Much the same as expectations springing high,
Still I'll rise.
Did you need to see me broken?
Bowed head and brought down eyes?
Shoulders tumbling down like tears.
Debilitated by my heartfelt cries.
Does my haughtiness outrage you?
Don't you take it horrendous hard
'Cause I chuckle like I have gold mines
Diggin' in my own back yard.
You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may execute me with your scorn,
Yet at the same time, similar to air, I'll rise.
Does my hotness upset you?
Does it come as a shock
That I move like I have precious stones
At the gathering of my thighs?
Out of the cottages of history's disgrace
I rise
Up from a past that is established in torment
I rise
I'm a dark sea, jumping and wide,
Welling and expanding I bear in the tide.
Deserting evenings of dread and dread
I rise
Into a dawn that is wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the blessings that my progenitors gave,
I am the fantasy and the expectation of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.