This is a song about "Air"

When the depth chart came, there was no me there

Multiple middle fingers in the air

Yessir... momma looking puerto rican and she got the best hair

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

And the air force scrambles fighters

Penncounting pennys over tha years

No, not on top but down there

Creepin up on you fell me,cold air.

Fuck barack’s change, we’d rather talk milian’s hair

To see how long your lungs can stay starved of air

But he push them whites in the hood like ray edmond was there

When they open the box and inhale the pale air.

She showed no lover's care, mauled like she was just cuttin' air.

The heart of a lion but i’m a tiger wood look in there

But now it's more declare

I don't even breathe the same air