Coach From the Couch

[Verse 1]
Got a bag under each eye
Got a kid on each arm
Got a group chat blowin’ up
“Bro, you comin’ to the bar?” (nah)
Used to lace up, stretch lines on the baseline
Now I’m yellin’ through a screen at the game time
“Box out! Swing left!” from a food-stained couch
Jersey on my back, baby bottle in my mouth
Scrollin’ LinkedIn, tryna sound grown in my bio
Twenty-somethin’, feelin’ forty, actin’ like I’m idle
Highlight reel memories, knees say it’s over
Mind still runnin’ suicides, lungs outta motor
[Chorus]
I’m in my late 20s, still drawin’ the route
Used to run the plays, now I’m coach from the couch (yeah)
Not old, not young, kinda stuck in between
Buildin’ up a life from some half-faded dreams
I don’t got the answers, I’m just workin’ it out
Change a diaper, then I’m wrestlin’ doubt (uh)
If this is grown, I’m still learnin’ the count
But I’m tryin’, I’m tryin’ to figure it out
[Verse 2]
Group texts full of weddings, push gifts, divorces
I’m stuck between “take a risk” and “pay your mortgage”
Dad hat crooked, car seat, stale fries
Spotify shuffle on my high school life
Used to skip class just to hoop ‘til it’s dark out
Now I skip sleep when the bills start to bark loud
Scrollin’ through the photos like, “yo, who is that kid?”
Then I see my face in my daughter and it hits (woah)
Same fears, new shoes by the front door
Baby gate where the rim on the trunk door
I don’t feel grown, but he call me his hero
Little hands countin’ on me more than zeros
[Chorus]
I’m in my late 20s, still drawin’ the route
Used to run the plays, now I’m coach from the couch (hey)
Not old, not young, kinda stuck in between
Buildin’ up a life from some half-faded dreams
I don’t got the answers, I’m just workin’ it out
Change a diaper, then I’m wrestlin’ doubt
If this is grown, I’m still learnin’ the count
But I’m tryin’, I’m tryin’ to figure it out
[Bridge]
Some days I miss the noise in the locker room air
Some days I’d trade all that for this recliner chair
Got a jersey in the closet, got a name on the mail
Got a kid in the crib, that’s a different type of hail Mary prayer
[Chorus]
I’m in my late 20s, still drawin’ the route
Used to run the plays, now I’m coach from the couch (yeah, yeah)
Not old, not young, kinda stuck in between
Buildin’ up a life from some half-faded dreams
I don’t got the answers, I’m just workin’ it out
Tuck ‘em in, then I’m talkin’ to doubt
If this is grown, I’m still learnin’ the count
But I’m tryin’, I’m tryin’ to figure it out (I’m tryin’)

rap, Warm 2000s boom-bap rap, swung drums and dusty piano loop, male vocals. Verses laid-back but precise, conversational flow with pockets for ad-libs. Hook opens with layered call-and-response, subtle vinyl crackle, simple bassline and mellow keys. Final chorus stacks harmonies and drops in a bright string stab to lift the ending.