Jersey Numbers Lyrics – Rod Wave

Read the full Jersey Numbers lyrics by Rod Wave along with the music video, song credits, release information and other details about the song. If you enjoy Rod Wave’s music, you can also explore Westside Connection and Sinners, two other songs by Rod Wave.

[Intro: Rod Wave]
(Pipe that s*it up, TnT)
(Ayy, JB)
Yeah, yeah, uh

[Verse 1: Rod Wave]
Fell in love with my cup, it’s just me and my drank
So much pain in my heart got me numb to the brain
And the crackers on our bumpers, s*it ain’t sweet as you think
Loyalty for royalty, I did it all for the gang
Now here’s a message for the youth, it ain’t worth it
N!ggas police, it ain’t worth it
Yeah, we stand on that business, fu*k around, tie up a witness
My past ain’t perfect, the judge handing out jersey numbers
Mistakes is nothing, you live and you learn
I was tryna get some sleep, so I been sipping that syrup
Preaching to my young n!ggas to lay off the pills
My baby mama text my phone like, “You got some nerve”
Know I come up out that bottom, I came straight from the curb
Youngin asking me advice to get his paper mature
My mouth told him chase his dream, but the younger child in me screamed
“Tell your big homie to front you half a bird”
You scared, then go to church, if you scared, them crackers’ll give you life, you life
Okay, my brother back in jail, my songs leaking out, I am not alright
In 2018, my partner was eighteen, they gave him twenty years, twenty years
If you eighteen with twenty, that mean he got more time than he fu*king lived

[Chorus: Rod Wave]
Preaching to Lil Keed, I told him try to make it to the league, get a jersey number
It ain’t nothing in these streets, but graveyards and jersey numbers, jersey numbers
Yeah, yeah, yeah
It ain’t nothing in these streets, but graveyards and jersey numbers, jersey numbers

[Verse 2: Rylo Rodriguez & Rod Wave]
Bro calling from the jail, he said his lawyer swapped him out (Uh)
I was hollering at lil’ Yayo, they gave him a dub and he did five
Still shot him with his slides on, bro institutionalized

Still killing, inmates shanked each other, I’m just happy that he survived
Pay anything to get you free, you, I’m picking sides
Know a couple people who bit the cheese, but you still be the guys
Paid an inmate in call fare, clean your laundry, laundry
Shoot away, show you how I did get a lunch tray, lunch tray
They’ll give you a judge and I’ma judge, don’t put you in the gang
They be treating us like a jeweler, can’t wait to put us in some chains
On FaceTime with lil’ TJ, say his mama was acting strange (She was acting strange)
Said his brother turned his back since he been in, I felt his pain (Felt his pain)
Seen a gangster go to jail and fu*k a sissy
He wouldn’t control himself, the first day out, I was back to sipping
N!ggas tell me, “Don’t get high,” I should try and make a living
But I tell ’em I’m a hustler and I’d rather make a killing

[Chorus: Rod Wave & Rylo Rodriguez]
Preaching to Lil Keed, I told him try to make it to the league, get a jersey number, yeah
It ain’t nothing in these streets (Yeah, yeah), but graveyards and jersey numbers, jersey numbers
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
It ain’t nothing in these streets, but graveyards and jersey numbers, jersey numbers
Uh