high-octane hard rock with a

[INTRO — spoken hype, 0:00–0:08] (MC voice, slight echo) Two years running... two rings on his hand... But every dynasty's built on sand...

[VERSE 1 — 0:08–0:30] He struts into the draft room like he owns the place, Trophy in the group chat, smirk on his face, Talkin' 'bout his sleepers like he's got a crystal ball, Boy, pride comes right before the fall. He benched his bye-week bums and got lucky twice, Now he thinks he's Belichick with better advice, But a house built on hubris starts to lean, Wait 'til Week 10 when his RB2's a has-been.

[CHORUS — 0:30–0:48] Calvin, Calvin, ridin' high, Talkin' trash but you can't fly, Two-peat got you actin' bold, Watch your kingdom turn to cold, 'Cause the league is comin' for that crown, Calvin, Calvin's comin' down.

[VERSE 2 — 0:48–1:10] He set his lineup, didn't check the injury report, Auto-pilot champion, that's the wrong sport, He's out here trash-talkin' in the group chat threads, While the waiver wire's stackin' up in everybody's heads, Karma's got a roster spot, she's startin' this week, Your dynasty's a sandcastle, and the tide's lookin' sleek, Two rings don't mean a thing when the third one slips away, This is the league, not your coronation day.