This is a song about "Making fun of"

Making dollar bills out of music

10th grade, eyes red as shit

Living in a box full of cuyahoga booze, and listen

'til the thrill of killing animals was no longer fun.

In control of everyone, that's got to be a fun job

And your loves in hindsight and you see everything its not

Make fun of my raps, it was an expression

And i can't breath when i'm high cause the airs too thin

I'll have you making dozens of faces.

See my desire for the lust, fucked up what was love

She seen that geechi shit, ain't been to church since

So now they making millions off of prisons

And start making all kinds of commotion

Little nigga so they picked on him, hassled him

But somehow it made them listen

Spilling blood of rappers, oh what good fun/