I've been sitting on the charts like a beach chair
My last album, spent 52 weeks there
Almost finished with the second, you should be scared
Storms coming you should go inside and prepare
No shortcuts, it ain't no cheats there
I brought the whole city out like a street fair
And fuck it I'm the coldest white rapper in the game
Since the one with the bleached hair
Yeah, they love it when I talk shit
I get around, yeah I'm on my 2Pac shit
I kinda feel there's no girl I could not get
I'm not found at the function if it's not lit
Yeah, it's Nathan that no one can tell me
I made it here dolo, nobody to help me
From the Bay, the birthplace of the hyphy
So bitch come and say to my face you don't like me

It's like I'm always found where the troubles at
Drinking brown shit now I'm off cup of that
Your girl's on me, what's up with that?
If I like her, all the shit will really take is a double tap
Having visions of fucking an A list singer, Kardashian, or a Jenner
But Ye's got Kim, Tyga swooped up Kylie
So there's one left watch me go get her
Yeah, they tell me calm down
Fuck that I'm too lit can't calm down
I'm so drunk right now I might fall down
And I don't give a fuck how boring do y'all sound?
Up and down on a Wednesday
Then we do the same shit the next day
The next star out the Bay is Eazy
Yadadamean? For sure
Yadadamean? For sheezy

Copyright: BMG Rights Management, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Songtrust Ave, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Writer(s): Christoph Reiner Andersson, Gerald Gillum, Jonathan Mills, Kurtis McKenzie