This is a song about "Empty"

But she sure can get you high if the coke let her

Im confused on what to with this empty paper

Fuck it its mmg, ima cross of def poetry and potent tree

Nigga on a roll, my soul is fuckin empty

An empty box sitting on a shelf alone

And one day you're gone grow to be a rolling stone

That fire flow the finest women i adore

My room is empty no furniture and no decor

And let me bust back to them niggas till they cold and sweaty

At least superficially make the conversation less empty

Ninety percent of words spoken are empty.

Now i know a lotta styles, some see

I'm fucking fed up with my pockets being empty

And my hadukid is watch how i do them, see

With a honey in the middle

No patience, like a empty hospital