Ghost Rivers to the Riches Styles P (Ft. Chris Rivers)

[Verse 1: Chris Rivers]
When I was five-years-old, pops had the Glocks in the stove
Run around and out for fifties, that's the cops in the cold
Stackin' feta green, double-platinum (-) and leather seams
Stack more cheddar better than fellas who praisin' Halloween
All for the love of show money, that VAT money
That trap money, packin'-MACs-in-back-of-the-Ac' money
Niggas act funny, but know ha-ha shit
I been post since age six, startin' some rah-rah shit
When I get it backwards, I rap words that crack Earth
Niggas stack birds, I cry for a collapsed Earth
Fuck it, rap nerd, 'bout to get it like crack worth
Niggas spit like he vomit in comets, or that's (-)
Get the hustle in my veins, got the muscles in my brain
Ain't no puzzles in this game, you put in work a state of shame
See the SeaBus lights, sinkin' mikes and I ain't eatin' right
I don't want to wait until I die broke to see the light
I wore Cadillacs from rappin' raps, spit words like acrobats
Backflip, rich (-) give you cataphracts
Mom, I need the mansion by the body of water
So I bodied this verse, then I body your daughter
Sexually, I'm on the road to riches
Bitches'll act when he talkin' Swiss
Bank accounts'll make you (-) to (-)
I'm just a cool G that raps, tryin' to see these stacks
And bring hip-hop back, fuck all the memory