This is a song about "Mail"

Look at what hell got, mail from fish scale docks

Like i'm only serving 20 rocks

Roll it up and ensure that everything's fat

Rappers wanna battle me, i have to mail their heads back

Trying to shake, the crates and fakes and snakes

You're wasting space like junk mail and sperm whales,

You'll drown tryna backstroke on concepts that i wrote

I'll mail them to your door and send a note

With parts of their body through the mail

That’s what i call a fairy tale