This is a song about "Mail"

Look at what hell got, mail from fish scale docks

What a feeling of overcoming the odds

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

Wale, more times than not, am not for whom the air waves

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

Been running around trying find a job

With parts of their body through the mail

Put these bitches on lock down, something like jail

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

But since mark put a nigga on that lily track