Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Married to the Streets, artist - French Montana. Album song Cocaine Konvicts, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 06.09.2009
Record label: Coke Boys
Song language: English
Married to the Streets |
I don’t know what it is |
But it keeps callin' my name, I can’t imagine me leavin' this game |
I’ll tell you what it is |
It’s the money, the cars, the clothes and all these fast ass hoes (hoes) |
It got me married to the streets |
Married to the streets, married to the streets (streets) |
It got me married to the streets, married to the streets |
Yeah, yeah, honey I’m home |
A hammer for a ring, a vest for a suit |
And a judge for a priest, jury taking seats |
Now your married to the streets, death do us apart |
My next move to the charts, French movin' that Parkay (yeah, yeah) |
I’m what you niggaz never was |
Came in coughin' kushy, walked out coughin' blood |
A G or more, on that Automar' |
Montana play the cut like Neospore |
What the bloodclaat, dreadlock, murder them |
Yessir, left his body shakin' like turbulence (yeah, yeah) |
I been in bread, said he been vet |
A killer sending threats on the internet |
I’m a pimp, 50 large, rubber bands |
Conversation, bitch pawned her wedding band |
I’m cold as a fridge top |
I got the game in a headlock (yeah, yeah) |
(Honey I’m home) |
I don’t know what it is |
But it keeps callin' my name, I can’t imagine me leavin' this game |
I’ll tell you what it is |
It’s the money, the cars, the clothes and all these fast ass hoes (hoes) |
It got me married to the streets |
Married to the streets, married to the streets (streets) |
It got me married to the streets, married to the streets |
Yeah, yeah, honey I’m home |
I’m married to the streets, 100 karats on my piece |
Got money on money, you’ll be countin' it for weeks |
No top, hit the block, get the head, get a shot |
Hit the club, I’m a star, see my table be the bar |
Fuck 'em all, fuck 'em all, money stack, money tall |
Hit the dealer, 100 large, hit the club, 100 cars |
Cut a check, I’m a work, tell Flex bomb it first |
Throw it back, show me love, crack a bottle, blow a dub (Haaah) |
It’s Macaroni nigga don’t even drop (Haaah) |
Over the sticker, lookin' slick in the drop (Haaah) |
The drought is over, Coke Wave, baking soda |
Twerkin', my weed purple like grape soda |
Me and 'Kon like Shaq and Lebron |
It’s Montana baby, lookin' like you mad I made it |
Catch me in the fresh Airs, Louis bag, white tee, Gucci hat |
Game in a doobie wrap, streets keep calling back |
I don’t know what it is |
But it keeps callin' my name, I can’t imagine me leavin' this game |
I’ll tell you what it is |
It’s the money, the cars, the clothes and all these fast ass hoes (hoes) |
It got me married to the streets |
Married to the streets, married to the streets (streets) |
It got me married to the streets, married to the streets |
Yeah, yeah, honey I’m home |
Yeah, yeah |
Honey I’m home |
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah |
Honey I’m home |
Yeah, yeah |
Yeah, yeah |
Yeah, honey I’m home |