This is a song about "Air"

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

You sitting at the bar wearing barbaro's hair

Day and night are my 'posites rare

I don't even breathe the same air

I'm fresher than will smith walking through bel air.

When the depth chart came, there was no me there

Then why the fuck am i yellin at air

Season opener, finna be there

Ain't no skipper but all my bitches is ginger hair

Spinning like my many rims through the air,

Or try to fill the shoes of an invisible pair

A deadly storm concoction is formed from cold hearts and hot air

Rap and do the impossible like i can carry air.

It's been a weekend, five starrin' in her underwear

They're tryin to say that i don't care

I'm running out of air