| 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 |