This is a song about "Air"

I'm running out of air

And never should you tear

I say my prayers cause this life ain’t fair

Got our middle fingers in the air,

Og like the prince of bel air,

U got all them drums in there

I run a 4.4, so they won't catch me there

To see how long your lungs can stay starved of air

On the lines of a wire right in the nice air

Another 5, eli won't even be there

A deadly storm concoction is formed from cold hearts and hot air

Insecure as bitches blind dating with a pimple there

I can smell it in the air

I'm love stoned and i could swear

Meet me in the tele where the lobby at, i'm probably there

You’re the plastic, i’m the passion and the magic in the air