Married To The Streets Lyrics - Cocaine Konvicts - French Montana

(Konvict) 

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 

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1 

French Montana: 

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 

2 

French Montana: 

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'ma 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