This is a song about "Air"

We both grown and i dont care

Everyday we live and breathe the air

Come on over to the scene, grab a table, let me take a look at that there

Floating in the quietness, fortifying my alliances, lost in the air,

Some sort of sensual magic can crackle through the air

A bunch of backstabbing niggas, hope the knife ain’t there

Creepin up on you fell me,cold air.

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

On the lines of a wire right in the nice air

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

It’s me and my nigga there until i’m a millionaire

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

Rap and do the impossible like i can carry air.

To get it in, any minute, i'll be hit with a stare

Please, just peep the crystal method where

Your a kid posing like willow in bel air,