This is a song about "Mail"

Smoke that mark mcgwire strong, oakland a no basic smoke

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

To getting rich off a dream, i throw it the bag

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

Then '09 came, them bad record sales

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

Now my watch fruity colors like trix in a box

Look at what hell got, mail from fish scale docks

With parts of their body through the mail

When i'm in the dmv i hit the home wale