This is a song about "Air"

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

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

I can smell it in the air

Woah there, woah there

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

Your a kid posing like willow in bel air,

Cap heights, 1-2-4, landover, everywhere

Got our middle fingers in the air,

The clientele buy and sell like a pawn shop

Until all the air bubbles have popped.

My coach ain't care, so i ain't care

To see how long your lungs can stay starved of air

Rap and do the impossible like i can carry air.

And your son was born with cancer and he live in urgent care

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

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