This is a song about "Air pollution"

Three town homes in delaware

With that weed in the air

No! it ain't fair, but we all bear and do our share

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

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

I can smell it in the air

Dirty rotten nigger picked it from a cotton gin

You should refuse to listen to these rebuking pollution,

When they open the box and inhale the pale air.

Believing the screens or anything there

They tryin to say that i don't care

Creepin up on you fell me,cold 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

Then why the fuck am i yellin at air

Season opener, finna be there