文字记录 (en)

So, to my city man, it ain't worth it boy, like it ain't worth it. Like me being a rapper from my city and Fulio being a rapper from our city, it ain't worth it. Like my mouth getting dry, sorry. Like the dissing, the beefing, the shooting, like for what? Like, for what? Like, when you sitting in your cell alone, cold, lonely, hell not good. Everybody leave you. Like, nobody here for you. Like, the ones that's your ride or die, your girlfriends, whoever you love, the only person that's for you is your mother. And maybe, like, one friend, maybe. But it ain't worth it, though, bro. It ain't worth it. I was 21 years old facing the death penalty. I never ever, the only, my only interactions with law enforcement was traffic tickets. Wake up next morning, I'm facing the death penalty. That's how quick life can change. It ain't worth it, bro. That's all. I'm sorry if I was nervous. Sorry. No, it's okay, Mr. Chance. Thank you for saying that. Yes, ma'am. Thank you.