This is a song about "Air"

A bunch of temptation facing when your wife ain’t there

Fuck a bottle rocket blowin smoke out in the air

Baby i ain't liping, i just tend to keep my city there

Standing on the chair ready to kick and dangle in air.

Multiple middle fingers in the air

Cars just like sneakers, just got me ten pair

You got a baby boy or girl in there

On the lines of a wire right in the nice air

I mean me is there, but it's like three there

Then why the fuck am i yellin at air

It’s not fair, the ones with the good hair

Your a kid posing like willow in bel air,

I don't even breathe the same air

And if they did, they didn't care

To see how long your lungs can stay starved of air

Booger bear, i'll have you up in hooker gear, i swear