High Society Collective - T.G.C. lyrics

[High Society Collective - T.G.C. lyrics]

One-two, one-two
Time to take them back to school
Tell you what we're gonna do
Tear the roof of the building

Yeah, it's the beginning of an era
High Soc spitting that new age
A birthday for the wordplay
Piece of cake, easy
Why the industry Kraft singles? Cheesy
We making that music, old school 70s
Mixed with the newness of
Pro Tools pleasantries
I canvased and all I found was fake stuff
We the only crew making
Music with a paintbrush in our mind is art
In addition to that y'alls is minus art
The flow is off the wall
You're listening to ceiling
Matter fact you're looking at
The Sistine of sixteens

Hello
Speak sense like a prophet I'm beyond paid
Bring change to the game like an arcade
I love a HOVA similar to Beyonce
Run circles around squares y'all in bad shape
I gave up the gold diggers for a sure dime
Lord transformed me in my Optimus Prime
So now I walk by faith, it seems backwards
I drink of his blood homie
With no Fear Factor
In my book of rhymes you might find a chapter
Of how to be an activist, artist, and actor
Like Lauryn Hill yeah I love those
Miseducation songs- so much I got a dumb flow

Dumb flow, bringing it to your block, Mutumbo
I suggest you stay in your
Lane or get dunked on the Tyson of writing
Rappers getting munched on
Dahmer of the genre
Eating rappers for lunch homes
I don't even unwrap them
Im eating wrappers for lunch homes
Now I need the Heimlich on my esophagus
Ate so many choke artists ended up vomiting
Now everything that Im'a spit
Got your mama sick
My gosh it's making you nauseous
Four headed monster that's what High Soc is
Hungry as a plastic hippopotamus
Headed straight to the opposite of
Where the bottom is, i promise this

I see hands high
Swoope must be in the building
Suzy Rock or JR must be killing
Ya’ll want some more evidence
We in the building
Cause ya’ll missing a ceiling
Hang it up -I want to call your bluff
So many week the lines I
Want to call you months
Y'all bite but still suck vampire stuff
Your movement went flat-just retire cuz
Check for smoke in your speakers-
This is fire brah
That's why the screaming sample sounds
Like a fire truck
As Much as you lie you should be king sized
We make a sad clock smile in the mean time
Metaphor crazy -I'm just an Emcee
I try to kill every track- I write eulogies
Let's celebrate the birth of a new team
Praise God-Here’s your sweet 16

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