This is a song about "Air"

My coach ain't care, so i ain't care

Multiple middle fingers in the air

It’s me and my nigga there until i’m a millionaire

Some sort of sensual magic can crackle through the air

To see how long your lungs can stay starved of air

She's got me love stoned from everywhere

Then why the fuck am i yellin at air

Will walking on my heart, wish you was still there

When they open the box and inhale the pale air.

Insecure as bitches blind dating with a pimple there

With that weed in the air

Woah there, woah there

It's justice for all but 90 percent unfair

Got our middle fingers in the air,

I can smell it in the air

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