French Montana - Married To The Streets lyrics
[French Montana - Married To The Streets lyrics]
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