This is a song about "Mail"

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

When the relay starts i’m a runaway slave

Ha, dead broke tryna get a bail

With parts of their body through the mail

I got these bitches brewin' inside of my gold pots

Look at what hell got, mail from fish scale docks

Over the edge, yeah i hide in a potato sack

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

A nigga just got paid and we still was broke

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