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[Instrumental]
You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I'll rise

Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
’Cause I walk like I’ve got oil wells
Pumping in my living room
Just like moons and like suns
With the certainty of tides
Just like hopes springing high
Still I'll rise

You may shoot me with your words
You may cut me with your eyes
You may kill me with your hatefulness
But still, like air, I’ll rise