This is a song about "Mail"

And i be drinking all the brown straight, no coke

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

I hated, some ritalin, some white socks

Look at what hell got, mail from fish scale docks

With parts of their body through the mail

But if i get knocked, i ain't got no bail

Roll it up and ensure that everything's fat

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

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

While i got my hand on the tec, wave