This is a song about "Empty shoes"

At least superficially make the conversation less empty

And a nose full of chowder, he's choppin' up all the doubters see

My time with their half-witted reviews

You can't find your fucken shoes?

This homosexual troll living under my shoes

Silver bullets, purple piff, blue pills, grey goose

Let's enjoy our younger years

Walking with an empty purse

Dark side of town, baby mama blues

Come and walk a mile in my shoes.

Now concentrate until you get the juice

My brothers need some clothes and shoes

Ninety percent of words spoken are empty.

And the discography, somethin' you got to see

Yeah got to the club early just to get in free

Nigga on a roll, my soul is fuckin empty