This is a song about "Mail"

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

Goin’ for the grips every day ’til the grave

If ballin’ was a crime, i’d be in jail

With parts of their body through the mail

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

This the ambition anthem, i flowed it to the flag

Look at what hell got, mail from fish scale docks

What a feeling of overcoming the odds

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

Shit i bought them tracks, stupid bitch i'm broke