This is a song about "Mail"

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

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

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

To the point that he just breaks, snaps, and it's all it takes

Look at what hell got, mail from fish scale docks

Your bitch looking messy like she smoking rocks

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

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

With parts of their body through the mail

Put these bitches on lock down, something like jail