You can write my stories

You can write my stories and me down in history, with your twisted and harsh lies. So you can drag me through the very dirt, but still as the very dust, I’ll rise.

Are you intimidated of your strength or the fact I'm a woman?
‘Cause I have a heart of a lion.

Just like the moon and sun, you try to crush my spirit like the tides smashing against the the rocks.
My hope and faith burner bright within me.

I know you want to see me broken, to bow my head and lower my eyes so you think you'll can control me.
But l won't falling weak or show my soul crying.

Can me arrogant or whatever, but the reality is that you are just jealous of my confidence because your torture don't affect me 

You may have the power to shoot me with your words, slices me with your eyes, murder me with your hatefulness. But like the north wind I'll always rise.

I'll rise from the shame of history and make my pain root from my past. I’m a black ocean, leaping and wide, I bear into the tide.

Leaving behind the terror of the dark night, into the morning that’s crystal clear to me.

Carrying the gifts that my ancestors gave, I'm the dream and the hope of the slave.