This is a song about "Coach"

But when i fuckin' go, lucifer will probably have my soul

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

On award tour, on excursions, i'm a virgin of swap meets

Become a coach designer of body bags and coca leaves

Dub a.l.e., still a son of a gun

If the coach knew what he would have become

Like banana peels for heels, my spill is so legit

You stuck in coach while im flying, driving, in the cock pit,

Use patience as my best approach

Pep yourself up like your own damn coach

A straight thug motherfucker who ain't scared to bust

No need to coach me, i'm ambivalent

Sorry coach, it's too late to tell me stop

No pork on the fork, but it’s white in the pot