This is a song about "Running on empty"

Every time i walk inside the house, she always tend to start shit

I choppa yo ass down you was bodied on , had my bitch empty that clip

Illuminati in control vigilante on patrols philanthropists running the show ruining souls/

Tryin' to be strong and in the process, keep you goini'm bout to lose my composure, i'm gettin' close

Walking with an empty purse

Babies turn into shooters

Pick my enemies out the crowd, and motherfucker's die

Nowadays you look empty, ya love runnin on a low supply

Masked up, this ain't trick or treat, one wrong move they finna squeeze

Running and dicing fried rice and no accent on rice please,

Now concentrate until you get the juice

Squirrel is running on the roof

Im confused on what to with this empty paper

I tell them killers they ain't figure what they fightin' for

Look, she love me from them poems, and them songs, in my zone

An empty box sitting on a shelf alone