This is a song about "Weat coast"

Paparazzi in the trees, please curtains closed

Im out ready to jet i'll meet you up coast

They're frozen and cold and smokin' the bowls of dope and then coast,

Unless your 'skin's winning, then i do it just to fucking boast

The world should turn as soon as my records spin

East coast to west coast all across the nation

Infatuated with becoming a relevant star

Call me west coast wells fargo, because i can go far

West coast niggas got more roots than a orange tree,

Paralyzed to the feeling, all the hate i see

Play this shit while you contemplate

I'm on the british south east coast mate

Coast of martha's vineyard drinking hennessy

But if you took a second mr. mirror, you would see

And a nose full of chowder, he's choppin' up all the doubters see

My insanity, profanity, my west coast mentality