This is a song about "Air"

Some sort of sensual magic can crackle through the air

Yessir... momma looking puerto rican and she got the best hair

I'm steady well known from here to bel air

I mean me is there, but it's like three there

It's been a weekend, five starrin' in her underwear

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

... materialize her love for one who doesn't care

Fuck a bottle rocket blowin smoke out in the air

I'm running out of air

They tryin to say that i don't care

It’s not fair, the ones with the good hair

Spinning like my many rims through the air,

I can smell it in the air

I'm love stoned and i could swear

I run a 4.4, so they won't catch me there

Multiple middle fingers in the air