This is a song about "Mail"

Look at what hell got, mail from fish scale docks

Left chicago with good money for 5 drops

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

Shit grand like a muh-fucking bass load

Helicopters on the set of my sales

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

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

I deserve a medal, lap 'em on every track

With parts of their body through the mail

Ridin’ in a cl, hope i never see jail