| I might be wrong, might be guilty | 
| You might be right (this time) | 
| You tried to warn me, you swore it would kill me | 
| I sacrificed | 
| Die to the world, I took the money | 
| (Wouldn't you) | 
| So for my life | 
| Couldn’t sleep at night, shoulda seen the crib though | 
| So fucking nice | 
| Speaking on the unjust way the justice system is justifying crimes against our | 
| kind | 
| Justice is supposed to be blind | 
| But continue to cross color lines | 
| Hands up, don’t shoot | 
| You shot. | 
| Stand your ground | 
| Blacks don’t own no ground to stand on so we stand on our words. | 
| Black and hooded is the official probable cause for cops to keep weapons drawn | 
| I can’t breathe through the chokeholds and gun smoke | 
| These realities drift and appear to inform black boys and men of the dangers | 
| outside their doors | 
| Slain in society by sworn protectors | 
| Protected by their peers, grand juries full of friends | 
| No charges brought against them | 
| They kill and arrest us, transgress and oppress us. | 
| Damn, cuz | 
| It don’t even matter. | 
| You can start from the beginning… | 
| I might be wrong, might be guilty | 
| You might be right (this time) | 
| You tried to warn me, you swore it would kill me | 
| I sacrificed | 
| Die to the world, I took the money | 
| (Wouldn't you) | 
| So for my life | 
| Couldn’t sleep at night, shoulda seen the crib though | 
| So fucking nice | 
| They searching, they searching cells | 
| Hold on cuz, (Oh it’s the) there’s police in this motherfucker, you ain’t hear | 
| them? | 
| You ain’t hear the alarms? | 
| Three, four, five… six, seven, eight, nine… ten, eleven | 
| Another day in Ironwood | 
| I might be wrong, might be guilty | 
| You might be right (this time) | 
| You tried to warn me, you swore it would kill me | 
| I sacrificed | 
| Die to the world, I took the money | 
| (Wouldn't you) | 
| So for my life | 
| Couldn’t sleep at night, shoulda seen the crib though | 
| So fucking nice |