French Montana - Married to the Streets Lyrics

Get the lyrics to the song: Married to the Streets by French Montana at LyricsKeeper.com.
Married to the Streets

Married to the Streets Lyrics |
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What Are The Lyrics For Married to the Streets By French Montana?
Akon and French Montana
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 F*ck 'em all, f*ck '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 |
Who Wrote Married to the Streets By French Montana?
Jonas Q Cardim, Karim Kharbouch, Aliaune Thiam
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