This is a song about "Air"

I'm running out of air

No, not on top but down there

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

Rap and do the impossible like i can carry air.

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

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

Yeah, see, breaking up is hard

Until all the air bubbles have popped.

Creepin up on you fell me,cold air.

Although my body's in the u.s my heart's there

Your a kid posing like willow in bel air,

Cause you slum dawg and i'm the millionaire

I don't even breathe the same air

Day and night are my 'posites rare

I'm steady well known from here to bel air

You sitting at the bar wearing barbaro's hair