This is a song about "Air"

I'm out of here, gimme that breath of fresh air

Those flashing lights seem to cause a glare

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

Og like the prince of bel air,

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

We missed you on the charts last week, damn, that's right you wasn't there

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

Some sort of sensual magic can crackle through the air

A bunch of temptation facing when your wife ain’t there

On the lines of a wire right in the nice air

And the air force scrambles fighters

It's 14 racks, what i put on that purse

Got our middle fingers in the air,

Whole lot of haters wanna fight i swear

I say my prayers cause this life ain’t fair

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