This is a song about "Mail"

While i got my hand on the tec, wave

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

When i'm on it, on it like my job

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

Pink toenails tail like a beached whale

With parts of their body through the mail

Look at what hell got, mail from fish scale docks

Heard the sound of several gun shots

Roll it up and ensure that everything's fat

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