This is a song about "Air"

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

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

Nowhere, let's let that sucker stay out there

Your a kid posing like willow in bel air,

Some sort of sensual magic can crackle through the air

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

I said hey, you right there

With that weed in the air

Ain't no skipper but all my bitches is ginger hair

Got our middle fingers in the air,

She's got me love stoned from everywhere

I don't even breathe the same air

And when i'm done with her, ain't no other male to compare

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

Believing the screens or anything there

I'm out of here, gimme that breath of fresh air