This is a song about "Mail"

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

But since mark put a nigga on that lily track

With parts of their body through the mail

My mom broke but she posted the bail

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

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

Look at what hell got, mail from fish scale docks

Now my watch fruity colors like trix in a box

It's ironic they call me a fresh breath no joke

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