I live from my roots born to stand amongst the youth.
To cry for me is a wast of time, i am the whipping boy
they criticize more than the blind.
So much pain i have endured that i welcome more with open arms.
Blame me for the riots that constantly hold us in bondage.
No more tears is what they fear a man that can walk thru the fire.
My wounds i wear with such proud meaning.
I share with the world in the remebrance of believeing.
For when im gone and my words fade away.
You should see what i died for also live today.
Nothing couldv'e held me back reckless but always meant well inside.
Was i ready for the world as being Defiant of my pride
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