ya dorky louse you get sorely trounced

even on the remix its still about the forty ounce!

satan and coach powell connect on the track

we strong like kevlar and deflectin it back

the hate -- like bullets you shoot

think again -- you pull it, you lose

we win -- alone we cant be beaten

but together we stand undefeated

you bound to lose -- how true -- so quit

you get smahed by mixtape volume six

intelligence, knowledge, weapons in our arsenal

ignorance in the sights and our targets fall

you take your life if you perputrate lies

your own foolishness like blatant suicide

you need help and we can provide it

if your willing and able to be righted

down a path of wisdom, not the street of stupidity

definition -- you see the ruse willingly

but we can guide you if you give us a turn

closed mouth open eyes -- listen and learn



night flight, night star, night hawk

you got to walk the right walk, talk the right talk

colt premium, ice beer, 64 -- own all three

if you dont know call me, know your malts, G

private stock, p. stock ice, green lightning

NY, chicago, vegas -- no tellin where we might be

rockhead nine and ten percent

on malts some spend their check, some spend their rent

perfect ten, hi test, clear creek ice

ill only say it once, you wont hear me twice

miller red, miller lite, miller lite ice

malts are to satan like chinese to white rice

silver and black 211, high gravity brews

gone off those malts and im a stammering fool

OE draft, ice, charcoal filtered

look out for the HG, its a hardcore killer

red and blue bull, bull ice HG

furious meter in the red, full of fire raging

satan and the coach, let us know

with every track we lace, our lettuce grows



the phone rang, the ID said the call was from dayton

it was the coach placin a call to satan!

ground breaking moment, many minds blown

heads were buggin, including my own

me and the coach got together, laced some tracks

then gave the masses / a taste of the madness

it was unreal, the reaction was swift

affection poured out like blood from slashed wrists

satan spits flows, the coach -- 'street jive'

those that saw it couldnt believe their eyes

how could satan and the coach connect?

a combo more deadly then boba fett

its satan once again, im a rep my name

and the coach comes thru to set it straight

when you see coach powell, you know the sound, kid

street jive and knowledge, folks astounded

we got the songs that make em say 'check!'

dont come up short or ill call our ya name next

theres alot of beats out there but ive laced most

dont slip up -- its satan and the coach