This is a song about "Air"

Multiple middle fingers in the air

Believing the screens or anything there

Got our middle fingers in the air,

When the depth chart came, there was no me there

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

Standing on the chair ready to kick and dangle in air.

Your a kid posing like willow in bel air,

Cause you slum dawg and i'm the millionaire

Fuck a bottle rocket blowin smoke out in the air

Cause a nigga main joint wanna do my hair

Don't you leave a seed in there

I don't even breathe the same air

Rap and do the impossible like i can carry air.

Perfume everywhere, girls are everywhere

Season opener, finna be there

Creepin up on you fell me,cold air.