This is a song about "Air"

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

But he push them whites in the hood like ray edmond was there

No, not on top but down there

Creepin up on you fell me,cold air.

Your a kid posing like willow in bel air,

Cap heights, 1-2-4, landover, everywhere

Until all the air bubbles have popped.

Hope all over again, we can start

Multiple middle fingers in the air

It's justice for all but 90 percent unfair

And the air force scrambles fighters

Talking about the god you serve

The way they hit her i just stop and stare

Then why the fuck am i yellin at air

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

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