Lyrics

[Verse 1]
Three weeks in reception, North Florida night
First steps off the bus, under cold yard lights
Concrete whispers, every eye on me
Could feel the weight of what I couldn’t yet see

There’s names in that place you don’t throw around
Legends in boots who still run the compound
They don’t need a crowd, they don’t need a cheer
Just the sound of their keys makes the whole dorm clear

[Chorus]
Don’t speak the names if you ain’t paid the price
Don’t write their story if you never rolled them dice
There’s blood in those letters, ghosts in that sound
And the ground still remembers where the bones went down

[Verse 2]
Saw a jar in the captain’s office, gold teeth stacked high
A grinning warning for the brave to walk by
I was nineteen years wild, thought I’d test my fate
Kicked it over on the desk — sealed my own weight

That night in the dark, they came like a storm
Two brown demons with hate in their form
K-Wing Slim and "Ni**er " Charlie by name
They taught me pain in a way that still flames

[Chorus]
Don’t speak the names if you ain’t paid the price
Don’t write their story if you never rolled them dice
There’s blood in those letters, ghosts in that sound
And the ground still remembers where the bones went down

[Bridge]
Every yard’s got kings, every tier’s got thieves
Every man’s got a truth only he believes
But if you wasn’t there when the gates slammed tight
Then those names ain’t yours to bring to the light

[Verse 3]
I’ve carried that night for twenty long years
The memory’s sharp as the pain in my ears
It taught me respect, it taught me to see
Who’s real, who’s fake, and who not to be

Now I hear young men talk like they’ve been in that fight
But they never saw death in a guard’s dead eyes
So I sing this slow for the ones who know
And for all the names that still walk that row

[Chorus – Final]
Don’t speak the names if you ain’t paid the price
Don’t write their story if you never rolled them dice
There’s blood in those letters, ghosts in that sound
And the ground still remembers where the bones went down

[Outro – Spoken, slow]
Some names ain’t just names…
They’re weight.
They’re war.
And they’re not yours to carry.