This is a song about "Air maxs"

Until all the air bubbles have popped.

I'll moon walk it if i'm truly in your heart

A life where we don't need no welfare

Og like the prince of bel air,

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

Please, just peep the crystal method where

When the depth chart came, there was no me there

When they open the box and inhale the pale air.

Talking of the gods you serve

And the air force scrambles fighters

Some sort of sensual magic can crackle through the air

And them which is more of a circus than a fair

I'm running out of air

Might as well prepare

Cap heights, 1-2-4, landover, everywhere

Multiple middle fingers in the air