This is a song about "Air"

We just went there

I'm running out of air

Or try to fill the shoes of an invisible pair

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

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

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

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

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

Got our middle fingers in the air,

Cause a nigga main joint wanna do my hair

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

With a group of bitchs we're like fishes they got tendense to get wetter man you can drown in there

Gotcha lips baby while i pull your hair

When they open the box and inhale the pale air.

I'm steady well known from here to bel air

Runnin' this bitch like i do not care