This is a song about "Air"

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

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

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

Rap and do the impossible like i can carry air.

Fuck a bottle rocket blowin smoke out in the air

Will walking on my heart, wish you was still there

And never should you tear

I don't even breathe the same air

Please, just peep the crystal method where

Then why the fuck am i yellin at air

From out of nowhere

With that weed in the air

And if they did, they didn't care

I'm running out of air

Og like the prince of bel air,

You appear as if you care