Jersey Numbers feat. Rylo Rodriguez

歌詞

(Pipe that shit up, TnT) (Ayy, JB) Yeah, yeah, uh 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, shit 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 Niggas police, it ain't worth it Yeah, we stand on that business, fuck 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 niggas 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 I 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 fucking live 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 Bro callin' from the jail, he said his lawyer swapped him out (Uh) I was hollerin' at lil' Yayo, they gave him a dub and he did five Still shot him with his slides on, bro institutionalized Still killin', 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 who used to 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 actin' strange (She was actin' 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 fuck a sissy He wouldn't control himself, the first day out, I was back to sipping Niggas 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 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 (Yeah), jersey numbers Yeah, yeah, yeah (Yeah) It ain't nothing in these streets, but graveyards and jersey numbers, jersey numbers Uh