[Verse 1: Chris Rivers]
Yo, my heart's incarcerated with bars that I jot on pages
The hardest artist regardless, my verses are carbon plated
Sinister sick spitter diminish your six figures
Visions against the winners, depicted as Chris Rivers
Part Hannibal, smart cannibal, part mechanical
Bronx Admiral, can't touch me, I'm part intangible
Part animal, part flammable, hard to handle too
Known to roll explosively, homie I'm part botanical
Part Hennessy, part remedy, spark the enemy
Part rock, hip-hop, anger and lack the equity
Part overkiller, stomp you out, you think its centipedes
Blow your brains out and put it back so you remember me
From a long line of hawks nines, gangsters and hard rhymes
Granny getting locked, full disclosure, these are hard times
Can't even buy tickets, the visits, so flipping these lyrics
Nothing in my pockets, but the writtens they finite
Gotta change that, bail grams out, get moms a Maybach
Living for that feeling, most n***as can't even say that
A disappointment, fairly burnt, but I got the ointment
I fill my time with rhymes for the occasion that pussy moistens
My choice is, take my lack of father-ship
No acknowledgements and empty pockets
They use it to fuel the rocket ship
If you ain't know and never heard it before
Just know I'm coming for the throne
And bitch I'm ready for war
Rivers