This is a song about "Air"

Your a kid posing like willow in bel air,

When the depth chart came, there was no me there

Right, now you say you don't care

I don't even breathe the same air

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

Or try to fill the shoes of an invisible pair

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

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

Uptown roamers, and south side riders

And the air force scrambles fighters

Rap and do the impossible like i can carry air.

Baby, just come close, let me play in your hair

Some sort of sensual magic can crackle through the air

Booger bear, i'll have you up in hooker gear, i swear

I'm running out of air

No, not on top but down there