This is a song about "Air"

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

She showed no lover's care, mauled like she was just cuttin' air.

A deadly storm concoction is formed from cold hearts and hot air

Blowin' fuck it i don't care, dreads is flyin' everywhere

When they open the box and inhale the pale air.

A bunch of temptation facing when your wife ain’t there

To see how long your lungs can stay starved of air

You ain't gotta stare, go cop a pair

I'm fresher than will smith walking through bel air.

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

Some sort of sensual magic can crackle through the air

Insecure as bitches blind dating with a pimple there

Even then we got people out there drowning, gasping for air.

Meet me in the tele where the lobby at, i'm probably there

Creepin up on you fell me,cold air.

Another 5, eli won't even be there