“I’m Gucci. It’s a rap. F**k [can they do] about a rap?”
Those words, spoken by Lawrence Montague during a jailhouse phone call, have become the catalyst for a significant legal shift in Maryland. The phrase sits at the heart of a broader reckoning over how prosecutors use rap lyrics as evidence in criminal trials, a practice that critics argue weaponizes artistic expression and reinforces racial bias in the courtroom.
The controversy stems from the case of Montague v. Maryland. Prosecutors introduced Montague’s rap verses—recorded via a jail telephone and later shared on Instagram—as evidence of his guilt in the killing of George Forrester. In December 2020, Maryland’s highest court ruled that such lyrics could be admitted as evidence. The decision paved the way for Montague’s conviction and a sentence of 50 years, with the court finding that the lyrics made it more probable that he committed the crime.
This legal precedent has sparked a national movement to curb the use of creative works as criminal evidence. This week, Maryland became only the third state to pass a bill reconsidering these practices. The legislation, known as the Protecting Artists’ Creative Expression (PACE) Act, now awaits the signature of Governor Wes Moore, who is widely expected to sign it into law.
Defining the PACE Act and New Legal Standards
The PACE Act is designed to establish rigorous standards for when creative works can be admitted in court, moving away from the broad discretion that previously allowed lyrics to be presented as “confessions.” By creating a higher bar for admissibility, the law seeks to protect First Amendment rights and prevent juries from basing verdicts on artistic personas rather than forensic evidence.
Under the proposed law, the government cannot simply introduce lyrics to a jury. Instead, the evidence must be presented to a judge for a preliminary hearing before the trial begins. To be admitted, the prosecution must prove that the creative expression meets specific, narrow criteria:
- The defendant clearly intended the perform to be taken literally.
- The lyrics contain specific factual details tied to the alleged offense.
- The expression is directly relevant to a disputed issue in the case.
- The probative value of the evidence outweighs any unfair prejudice it may cause the defendant.
Maryland joins California and Louisiana, which enacted similar protections in 2022 and 2023. These laws were the result of coordinated advocacy from a coalition called Free Our Art, alongside organizations such as the Black Music Action Coalition (BMAC), Songwriters of North America (SONA), and The Recording Academy.
The Intersection of Race and Artistic Expression
The push for the PACE Act is rooted in the observation that rap lyrics are almost exclusively used against Black and Brown artists. Since the 1980s, rap lyrics have been introduced in more than 820 criminal cases across the United States. Legal scholars and civil rights advocates argue that this trend reflects a systemic misunderstanding of the genre’s cultural significance.
Rap emerged in the 1970s in the South Bronx as a response to poverty, systemic unemployment, and government neglect. For many artists, the genre serves as a medium to process trauma, express anger, and challenge injustice. However, when these narratives enter a courtroom, they are often stripped of their artistic context. Research indicates that jurors are more likely to perceive rap as threatening or grounded in reality compared to other genres, such as country music, even when similar themes of violence or rebellion are explored.
| State | Legislation/Status | Key Protection |
|---|---|---|
| California | Enacted 2022 | Requires evidence of intent and factual relevance. |
| Louisiana | Enacted 2023 | Limits admissibility of creative works to prevent bias. |
| Maryland | Passed (Pending Signature) | Mandates judicial review before jury presentation. |
| NY, GA, MO | Under Discussion | Legislative debates on artistic freedom laws. |
Advocates argue that the current system treats Black expression as a roadmap to criminality. While some courts have begun overturning convictions where lyrics were the primary evidence, supporters of the PACE Act argue that these reversals are “damage control” rather than a systemic cure. They contend that protection must exist on the front end to prevent wrongful convictions from occurring in the first place.
A Growing National Momentum
The movement to protect artists is expanding beyond the West Coast and the Gulf South. Legislatures in New York, Georgia, and Missouri are currently in discussions regarding laws that would defend artistic freedom and draw a clear line between creative storytelling and criminal admission.
The effort is led by a diverse, bipartisan group of allies, including music executive Kevin Liles and legal experts who argue that the tradition of hip-hop—championed by figures from Public Enemy and N.W.A to Kendrick Lamar—should not be mistaken for a legal confession. The goal is to ensure that Black artists can express lived experiences and social critiques without fearing that their art will be used as a weapon against them in a court of law.
Disclaimer: This article is provided for informational purposes only and does not constitute legal advice.
The next critical checkpoint for Maryland’s legal landscape is the official signing of the PACE Act by Governor Wes Moore. Once signed, the law will provide a new framework for judges to evaluate the admissibility of creative works in criminal proceedings across the state.
We invite readers to share their thoughts on the balance between courtroom evidence and artistic freedom in the comments below.
