This is a song about "Mail"

Sing the highs and lows, remember when i was broke

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

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

That i never had, but wrote it in my raps to make you mad

And why the hell am i locked in jail

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

What a feeling of overcoming the odds

Look at what hell got, mail from fish scale docks