This is a song about "Starbucks air"

Creepin up on you fell me,cold air.

They tryin to say that i don't care

I'm running out of air

We both grown and i dont care

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

Yessir... momma looking puerto rican and she got the best hair

Fuck a bottle rocket blowin smoke out in the air

I'mma stop right there and i know you don't care

Perfume everywhere, girls are everywhere

On the lines of a wire right in the nice air

So you finally got the nerve

And the air force scrambles fighters

Some sort of sensual magic can crackle through the air

Or try to fill the shoes of an invisible pair

Come on over to the scene, grab a table, let me take a look at that there

Floating in the quietness, fortifying my alliances, lost in the air,