This is a song about "Air jorda"

Gas 'em like a rental, when i take off, tell the bitch take care

Rap and do the impossible like i can carry air.

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

To see how long your lungs can stay starved of air

A bunch of backstabbing niggas, hope the knife ain’t there

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

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

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

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

Everyday we live and breathe the air

When the depth chart came, there was no me there

Got our middle fingers in the air,

I can smell it in the air

You appear as if you care

I mean me is there, but it's like three there

Multiple middle fingers in the air