Natanael Cano’s “Tay” is a flashy selfie of modern corridos tumbados life. From the very first shout-out (“Na-, Na-, Nata”), the Mexican hitmaker invites us into a world where designer labels (Gucci, Valentino, Balenciaga) sparkle as bright as the diamonds on his chains. He paints the picture of a girl who thrives on luxury and social-media spotlight—uploading daring photos to OnlyFans, starring in her own “movie” that never needs rehearsals. Beneath the glitter, however, runs a streak of raw emotion: heartbreak, jealousy, even a hint of self-destructive obsession when he sings, “Me quiere dejar, me quiero morir, me quiero matar.”
The song flips back and forth between swagger and vulnerability, blending regional Mexican guitar licks with trap beats. Natanael celebrates his meteoric rise—million-peso jewelry, “porte exuberante,” and late-night studio grind—while admitting the chaos that success brings. “Tay” is essentially a roller coaster of riches, romance, and recklessness, wrapped in the rebellious spirit of corridos tumbados. Listeners get both the high-octane thrill of luxury living and the honest confession that, behind the designer shades, fame can feel “bien loco, bien psycho.”