song lyrics / Mory / I don't condone violence. lyrics  | FRen Français

I don't condone violence. lyrics

Performer Mory

I don't condone violence. song lyrics by Mory official

I don't condone violence. is a song in English

Huh? What he say?
Man these niggas got me all the way fucked up
(I'm in the building nigga you know what the fuck going on nigga)
Wooh, yeah, wooh, yeah, wooh, yeah, wooh
Yeah, wooh, yeah, wooh, yeah, wooh, yeah
Up the pole and knock his top, he go missin' just for talkin' shit
Temper tantrum on me cause the way that I be throwin' fits
Pussy niggas on the net, we at your house, we hit this lick
Choppa got a virus, when it touch you, it's gon' make you sick
Okay, smoke, he don't want it (he don't, oh yeah)
Yeah, yo bitch, she on my dick, she just be frontin' (she just be, oh yeah)
His gun choke (his gun what?) push up on him (push up, oh yeah)
We got One-Five and Ken, we hot, we at the summit (we at the summit lil' bitch)
Hey, huh, yeah, jump to the beat
Yeah, she with you, but she staring at me
Spit like a dragon, I'm bringing that heat
Five to the face, no, these niggas can't see me
No, where's JohnDoe
We had to adapt and switch up the flow
Highest of seven, you already know
Reppin' that shit 'til the day that I go
Stick up, mask down, we finna shoot up a scene
He got luck, chop gave him a haircut, now he the black Mr. Clean (yuh)
Dump his body in the ocean, they had to use a submarine
A thousand dollars for the shirt, a thousand dollars for the jeans
I'm smokin' on dope, I'm a fiend
You get popped if you touchin' my lean
And I'm smokin' on muf-ng green
And I'm shootin' my pistol like Pete
He get shot in the face if he reach
She eat on my tip just like peach
She eat on that bih, she start chompin'
I pull out that stick and start stompin'
I tell twin pull out drac' and start thumpin'
I'mma shoot at his head while he slumpin'
While he sleep on the floor
He want that smoke, so I pull up with poles
He talking crazy, we shoot up his nose
Blew out his knee like the QB from Noles
He keep on kappin', I think he might stroll
I'mma just uh, I'mma just
Up the pole and knock his top, he go missin' just for talkin' shit
Temper tantrum on me cause the way that I be throwin' fits
Pussy niggas on the net, we at your house, we hit this lick
Choppa got a virus, when it touch you, it's gon' make you sick
(Uh, tihs siht edam eviF-enO)
Lyrics copyright : legal lyrics licensed by Lyricfind.
No unauthorized reproduction of lyric.
Writers: Emory Butler, Kendall Rice
Copyright: O/B/O DistroKid

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