I'm fresher than will smith walking through bel air.
And them which is more of a circus than a fair
Creepin up on you fell me,cold air.
I'm just sellin' my thoughts there
I run a 4.4, so they won't catch me there
To see how long your lungs can stay starved of air
Fuck barack’s change, we’d rather talk milian’s hair
Some sort of sensual magic can crackle through the air
It's 14 racks, what i put on that purse
And the air force scrambles fighters
It’s me and my nigga there until i’m a millionaire
Fuck a bottle rocket blowin smoke out in the air
At the same time, pull up like james bond
Until all the air bubbles have popped.
Runnin' this bitch like i do not care
I can smell it in the air
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