know the courtroom ain’t the set of a music video, ain’t Coachella or the BET Awards, ain’t MTV, VH1, or the Grammys But still there’s an audience of fans, experts, and judges Eyes watching through filtered screens seeing every lie, reading every made-up word like a black hoodie counts as a mask like some shit I do with my fingers counts as gang signs like a few fights counts as uncontrollable rage like failing three classes counts as being dumb as fuck like everything that I am, that I’ve ever been counts as being guilty
