This is a song about "Air"

Until all the air bubbles have popped.

No wonder why when times get hard

Gas 'em like a rental, when i take off, tell the bitch take care

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

A deadly storm concoction is formed from cold hearts and hot air

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

Believing the screens or anything there

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

You ain't gotta stare, go cop a pair

I'm steady well known from here to bel air

Your a kid posing like willow in bel air,

Whole lot of haters wanna fight i swear

You sitting at the bar wearing barbaro's hair

Rap and do the impossible like i can carry air.

Some sort of sensual magic can crackle through the air

No! it ain't fair, but we all bear and do our share