This is a song about "Air conditioning"

You ain't gotta stare, go cop a pair

Your a kid posing like willow in bel air,

Og like the prince of bel air,

Don't you leave a seed in there

Creepin up on you fell me,cold air.

Please, just peep the crystal method where

But now it's more declare

I'm running out of air

And the air force scrambles fighters

Uptown roamers, and south side riders

Years back you believed that the world was fair

Spinning like my many rims through the air,

On the lines of a wire right in the nice air

When danielle or milan decide to fucking share