Iron Blood Legacy (White Dragon Rap)

You think you’re a hero, boy? You ain’t no son of mine.

Blood don’t make a man righteous, it’s the fire inside.

I built the armor, the legacy, the line —

and you? You pissed it away with that filthy shine.

Iron-clad soul, yeah I forged my name,

while you ran off trying to play some hero game.

I built gods outta metal, made the weak obey,

while you cry in your mask just to hide your shame.

Every bolt, every plate, drips with domination,

white steel, pure hate, my only salvation.

You can paint over sin, but the rust remains,

so I’ll cleanse this world in my righteous flame.

They called me a monster — hell, I’ll wear the crown,

better a tyrant than some clown backing down.

I see rot in the veins of this dying land,

so I tighten the grip of my iron hand.

Legacy ain’t kindness, it’s control and pain,

it’s discipline, fear, and the power I gained.

You talk love and peace? That’s weak and soft,

I built nations from bone when they wrote me off.

White Dragon rising, I breathe steel and sin,

no forgiveness here, just the war I win.

You call it hate, I call it pride,

purity’s forged when the weak divide.

White Dragon flying through the smoke and blood,

built on vengeance, oil, and mud.

No redemption — that’s a fool’s belief,

I wear my wrath like a set of teeth.

You kneel to guilt; I kneel to none,

my creed’s carved deep in the barrel of a gun.

No savior in this house, no tears to shed,

I taught you strength, you chose regret instead.

I see your eyes when the trigger shakes —

you’re still that scared boy making my mistakes.

But I ain’t bound by your fragile heart,

I’m the end of the world that you can’t restart.

Behind this armor’s a soul long gone,

machine for a god, man for the wrong.

They buried my name but it roars through time,

a dragon reborn in the filth and grime.

Don’t call me father — I’m wrath’s machine,

metallic blood runs cold and mean.

I was forged by hate, refined by fear,

you’ll never erase what I built right here.

White Dragon rising, I breathe steel and sin,

no forgiveness here, just the war I win.

You call it hate, I call it pride,

purity’s forged when the weak divide.

White Dragon flying through the smoke and blood,

built on vengeance, oil, and mud.

No redemption — that’s a fool’s belief,

I wear my wrath like a set of teeth.

So when you aim that gun, remember this pain,

your strength was born from my disdain.

You can kill the man, but not the creed —

my curse still flows through your seed.

White Dragon falls, but I never die —

the armor lives on when my soul says goodbye.