This is a song about "Air"

No, not on top but down there

Creepin up on you fell me,cold air.

Rap and do the impossible like i can carry air.

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

I'm running out of air

Day and night are my 'posites rare

Og like the prince of bel air,

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

Standing on the chair ready to kick and dangle in air.

Nigga, i swear them lames ain’t know how to prepare

Gotcha lips baby while i pull your hair

Fuck a bottle rocket blowin smoke out in the air

And i would never walk in the shadow that never was really there

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

With that weed in the air

Three town homes in delaware