This is a song about "Mail"

Look at what hell got, mail from fish scale docks

Bail was a quarter mill, they put me in a box

Every visit to neimans, i swear don't even see a tag

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

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

Uh, the only hope i had was selling dope

And if you love substance you'll love wale

With parts of their body through the mail

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

While i got my hand on the tec, wave