This is a song about "Coach davis"

I ain't superstitious i make all these broads split my pole

The game wit a field goal our coach said good job boys u were on a roll

Reminds you of the faces, trayvon martin, jordan davis,

Next month i want that plus, money long as your tour bus

No need to coach me, i'm ambivalent

Fuck around dawg, get ya head bust

Become a coach designer of body bags and coca leaves

This is not somethin that i wrote for tha queens

Your bitch kind of ugly but she sure fill up them jeans

In perpetual brownout, seeing davis, gray scenes

You can bet your bottom dollar the bottom lips will need stitches

You say well fuck these cochraoches i didn't come to coach this.

Im not the player anymore im turning into the coach

I been trying to show you somethin, got a different approach