This is a song about "Air temperature rising"

And older women put a nigga on their bucket list

Picture this, rising of an electrifying lyricist

I never judge a murder by weapons, only the rage

I got freakin ghost rider temperature minus nicholas cage

I done came too far to regard me as the regular

They say your body can die under the right temperature

Now you know bout me, lets go to a lounge

Then the temperature of jessie passed out on the couch

You sitting at the bar wearing barbaro's hair

Some sort of sensual magic can crackle through the air

In the land of the rising sun

I'm a son of a gun

Believing the screens or anything there

Then why the fuck am i yellin at air

Not only from the rap game, i'm including the planet

Rising and brimming and pinning with lava, volcanic/