This is a song about "Empty the clip"

Somebody hold the banana, clip

Six hundred sixty-six, leave it for the tip

That's not my hustle if i did i probably, would've made empty them clips from the crips

But i'm from jers' and we don't play that shitfrom the clare down to north bricks, all my niggas flipping chips

I just think i need one night, slightly more if it's done right

Banana clip, with the magazine clipp to the side/

It's like a black hole, whole fucking abyss

Im the baddest with the mic apparatus, clip this

His buddys dead right beside em, last clip drops to the floor

Controling my steamknowing my team to deserve more

My talent should take me places i've never been

Im the mc fusion, with no empty conclusion

Commence to poppin' motherfuckers copy it fatalefficiently i delete then flee

Brain empty, insane and deadly, hollowed out and wishing he could rhyme, the pain is ready

They say love saves the empty, the confused, the broken and the abused

The owner bout to prosecute, the niggas tell her that she's cute