This is a song about "Cold air"

Skipping class and growing cold

Franky lymon the lime light gets old

Og like the prince of bel air,

They tryin to say that i don't care

And got her room number, you can find me there

Then why the fuck am i yellin at air

Spinning like my many rims through the air,

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

On the lines of a wire right in the nice air

When the depth chart came, there was no me there

Alot of niggas fake who go to hard

Until all the air bubbles have popped.

Thats spits lyrics so cold

All this paper i fold

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

I can smell it in the air