| Well Martin’s dream has become Rodney’s worst nightmare.
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| Can’t walk the streets, to them we are fair game,
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| our lives don’t mean a thing.
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| Like a King, like a King, like a King.
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| Rodney King, Rodney King, Rodney King.
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| Like a king, like a King, like a King.
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| How I wish you could help us Dr. King.
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| Make sure it’s filmed, shown on national T.V.
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| They’ll have no mercy.
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| A legal lynch mob like the days strung up from the tree.
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| The L.A.P.D.
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| Like a King, like a King, like a King.
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| Rodney King, Rodney King, Rodney King.
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| Like a King, like a King, like a King.
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| How I wish you could help us Dr. King.
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| So if you catch yourself thinking it has changed for the best you better second
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| guess cause Martin’s dream has become Rodney’s worst nightmare.
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| Like a King, like a King, like a King.
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| Rodney King, Rodney King, Rodney King.
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| Like a King, like a King, like a King
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| How I wish you could help us Dr. King.
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| Like a King, like a King, like a King.
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| Like a King, like a King, like a King.
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| Like a King, like a King, like a King.
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| How I wish… Like a King, like a King.
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| Like a King, like a King, like a, like a King.
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| Like a King, like a King, like a King.
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| When we will look to the past, look to the past to learn?
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| I wish…
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| Like a king, like a king, like a king.
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| Like a king, like a king, like a king.
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| Bye, bye we must go to see the King.
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| Bye, bye we must go to face the King.
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| You may write me down in history with your bitter twisted lies,
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| you may trod me down in the very dirt.
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| And still like the dust, I’ll rise.
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| Does my happiness upset you?
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| Why are you best with gloom cause I laugh,
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| like I’ve got an oil well pumpin' in my living room?
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| So you may shoot me with your words,
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| you may cut me with your eyes,
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| and I’ll rise — I’ll rise — I’ll rise — rise — rise.
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| Out of the shacks of history’s shame,
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| up from a past rooted in pain,
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| and I’ll rise — I’ll rise — I’ll rise — rise — rise.
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| Now did you want to see me broken,
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| bowed head and lowered eyes,
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| shoulders fallen down like teardrops,
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| weakened by my soulful cries.
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| Does my confidence upset you?
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| Don’t you take it awful hard cause I walk,
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| like I’ve got a diamond mine breakin' up in my front yard.
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| So you may shoot me with your words,
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| you may cut me with your eyes,
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| and I’ll rise — I’ll rise — I’ll rise — rise — rise.
|
| Out of the shacks of history’s shame,
|
| up from a past rooted in pain,
|
| and I’ll rise — I’ll rise — I’ll rise — rise — rise.
|
| So you may write me down in history with your bitter twisted lies.
|
| You may trod me down in the very dirt.
|
| And still like the dust, I’ll rise.
|
| Does my happiness upset you?
|
| Why are you best with gloom cause I laugh,
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| like I’ve got a goldmine diggin' up in my living room.
|
| You may shoot me with your words,
|
| you may cut me with your eyes,
|
| and I’ll rise — I’ll rise — I’ll rise — rise — rise.
|
| Out of the shacks of history’s shame,
|
| up from a past rooted in pain,
|
| and I’ll rise — I’ll rise — I’ll rise — rise — rise.
|
| You may shoot me with your words,
|
| you may cut me with your eyes,
|
| and I’ll rise — I’ll rise — I’ll rise — rise — rise.
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| Out of the shacks of history’s shame,
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| up from a past rooted in pain,
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| I’ll rise — I’ll rise — I’ll rise — rise — rise.
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| I gonna rise — I’ll rise — I’ll rise — rise — rise.
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| I’ll rise — I’ll rise — I’ll rise — rise — rise |