Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song AC, artist - TrOyMaN. Date of issue: 07.10.2019
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
AC |
| This is move-my-mind-mondays |
| This is your boy mex -mid-mike |
| And we are sweating in Atlanta Georgia |
| Hotter than a devil’s ass |
| Kids are going to class |
| But you know what you gotta do: |
| (This should be my theme song… to life) |
| Time to wake and bake baby! |
| Hello ATL, Rise up |
| Same dream, same team, same nigga |
| Promise I ain’t change much |
| Flow go, oh so Mystical |
| Tell them that its Danger |
| Sick with it, smoking on medicinal |
| Higher than an astronaut |
| Homie say, why you ain’t blowing up |
| Its because I rap a lot |
| He don’t get it, I’ma get it though |
| All green like its piccolo |
| Even Shrek, tell em kiss my donkey |
| Hol' up let me get a mistletoe |
| Running with the wining team (yea) |
| We gon' ball clean (yea) |
| We just be on different things (yea) |
| Soon enough you’ll mention me |
| You can call a nigga rocks cause I be in the cut |
| Minding my own |
| Grinding up strong |
| Roll them doobies up |
| Let me smoke, my stress be gone |
| I don’t wanna hurt no body |
| Whipping like I got kids |
| If you rolling up, then roll shotty with us |
| God why hesitate (yea) |
| Let’s levitate, elevate (uh) |
| Resignate, section 8 (yea) |
| Love, we got hella plates (eating!) |
| Up until the last supper (yea) |
| We get cheaper by the dozen (uh) |
| I ain’t home, at my cousin’s |
| We burning up we’re the oven yea |
| Is you, or is you ain’t rolling with us |
| If you is then I’m rolling it up (Godamn) |
| Ya |
| AC — too hot |
| AC — too hot |
| AC — look |
| AC — too hot |
| AC — too hot |
| AC — look |
| AC — too hot |
| AC — too hot |
| AC — look |
| AC |
| (Ey ey ey ey, where you from young blood) |
| Nigga this Oakland, out in the country right here with my kinfolk |
| These girls don’t know me but they want to blow me like Nintendos |
| Band up, ask around |
| Breaking bad boy in town |
| Walter white with the wrist work |
| They Harden when I’m not around |
| I don’t want the rocket power |
| Nothing sweet pocket sour |
| Plenty for residuals |
| Every hour by the hour |
| It go tick tock grandpa |
| Till the piggy bank is ham hop |
| Life is such a beach |
| I’m just that nigga from the sandbox |
| Someone said you became an outcast when you had that stank on ya |
| Please don’t ask me where its from |
| Yea its all from California |
| Don’t sell weed but I’m what you need |
| I can call someone over |
| He must skimp and he pimpin' |
| You’ll be glad that you know him (What up!) |
| Smoking presidential in the residential (that Obama) |
| Lighting like a bomb we got hella missiles (call Osama) |
| A-salaam-alaikum in my blunt |
| I ain’t racing I’m just pacing please don’t take it all at once (burn up) |
| Is you, or is you ain’t rolling with us |
| If you is then I’m rolling it up |
| Ya |
| AC — too hot |
| AC — too hot |
| AC — look |
| AC — too hot |
| AC — too hot |
| AC — look |
| AC — too hot |
| AC — too hot |
| AC — look |
| AC |