Song lyrics are art, not evidence of criminal activity
Sometimes in America, common sense isn’t as common as we think.
For example, it’s common sense that our imaginations and the creative works that come from them are not autobiographical. Bob Marley did not shoot a sheriff, and Johnny Cash did not shoot a man in Reno just to watch him die.
All art goes through a creative lens as we try to tell more exciting stories or make sharper points. Yet with increasing frequency, lyrics are being presented as literal confessions in courtrooms across America.
Like many who grew up in West Baltimore in the 1980s, I was more likely to be a statistic than a success story. I was blessed to have friends, family and teachers who looked out for me. I found my way from Woodlawn High School to Morgan State University on an electrical engineering scholarship and launched my career at Def Jam Recordings, where I went from intern to president before my 30th birthday.
But a key part of my story is often overlooked: my friends in Baltimore who also loved music. As teens, we created a group called Numarx, and had a hit called “Girl You Know It’s True.” (Yes, the famous song stolen by Milli Vanilli was written in Baltimore.) My family and teachers put me on the right path, but music kept me there.
Hip-hop saved my life.
That’s why when I’m asked to speak to vulnerable young people in Maryland, I encourage them to find a passion to spend their free time to avoid the spiral of drugs, guns and violence that leads to jail or an early grave. If they’re not born with elite academic or athletic gifts, that passion is often something artistic.
Today, hip-hop is the most culturally influential and commercially successful form of art globally, and mobile devices make it easier than ever to record and share music in real time. It’s self-evident why creating hip-hop music is so prevalent, especially for those who don’t have much more than dreams and bad options. It’s therapy, community and hope, and I’m a living example of changing your life through artistic expression.
But in prosecutor’s offices, creative expression is being weaponized to prop up weak cases.
This trampling of the First Amendment is a recipe for wrongful convictions. That’s why, in Maryland and elsewhere, a coalition of artists, creative economy leaders, civil rights and free speech groups, academics and lawyers have come together to stop this un-American practice.
Yesterday, Maryland’s House and Senate Judiciary Committees reviewed the bipartisan-sponsored PACE Act, which stands for Protecting the Admissibility of Creative Expression (House Bill 1429/Senate Bill 662). This commonsense legislation takes pains to balance public safety with guardrails that reinforce First Amendment protections.
This law is not an outright ban on the admissibility of art. It acknowledges there are extreme instances where someone may be stupid and reckless enough to describe crimes they committed in their artwork. That’s why the PACE Act establishes a four-part test to aid judges in determining what is admissible. They include deeply reasonable questions like whether the work is figurative or literal and whether there’s a fact pattern that aligns with the allegations.
Recently, this topic has become national news because of the case against Grammy-winner Jeffery Williams (a.k.a. “Young Thug”) in Georgia, where vague metaphors like “ready for war like I’m Russia” were admitted as evidence as “an overt act in furtherance of conspiracy.” But previously, Mac Phipps spent 21 years in prison in Louisiana for a shooting based on his lyrics despite another person confessing before trial. Locally, in 2019, a Baltimore sheriff ’s deputy overreached so dramatically when using an artist’s creative expression to secure a warrant, the Assistant Attorney General later admitted it was “sloppy and negligent.”
As a federal appeals court judge wrote in a ruling last month in a case involving the murder of Jam Master Jay of Run DMC, “Juries should not be placed in the unenviable position of divining a defendant’s guilt, in whole or in part, from a musical exposition with only a tenuous relationship to the criminal conduct alleged.”
Unfortunately, that practice will not change unless laws also change. To protect free speech and creative expression in Maryland, this bipartisan commonsense law needs to pass. Artistic expression saves lives — I’m living proof.
In prosecutor’s offices, creative expression is being weaponized to prop up weak cases. This trampling of the First Amendment is a recipe for wrongful convictions.
Kevin Liles
(X: @KevinLiles1) has served as president of Def Jam Recordings, executive vice president of Warner Music Group, founder and president of talent management firm KWL Management, co-founder and CEO of
300 Entertainment, and now serves as chairman and CEO of 300 Elektra Entertainment, a collection of six labels within Warner Music Group. In 2021, Kevin was named Billboard’s “HipHop Executive of the Year” for his activism and his role in the career of Megan Thee Stallion.