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