Third Degree کے بول

Got me accused of peeping I can't see a thing Got me accused of petting I can't even raise my hand Bad luck Bad luck is killing me Well I just can't stand no more of this third degree Got me accused of murder I ain't harmed a man Got me accused of forgery I can't even write my name Got me accused of taxes I ain't got a dime Got me accused of children And ain't nary one of them was mine