This is a song about "Air condition"

You ain't gotta stare, go cop a pair

I don't even breathe the same air

Then why the fuck am i yellin at air

For 9 years in spain had the time share

Nah, niggas they dont wanna let me win

On his critical condition,

Meka scary, turn his white ass to a jim carrey twin

In this condition, im loading up with ammunition

I know that love it could begin

We cool under one condition

And got her room number, you can find me there

Everyday we live and breathe the air

You sitting at the bar wearing barbaro's hair

Spinning like my many rims through the air,