This is a song about "Air jorda"

Believing the screens or anything there

I don't even breathe the same air

When they open the box and inhale the pale air.

And them which is more of a circus than a fair

It's been a weekend, five starrin' in her underwear

Even then we got people out there drowning, gasping for air.

Got our middle fingers in the air,

You sitting at the bar wearing barbaro's hair

You’re the plastic, i’m the passion and the magic in the air

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

She tried to call home mom dukes ain't care

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

On the lines of a wire right in the nice air

Perfume everywhere, girls are everywhere

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

Rap and do the impossible like i can carry air.