This is a song about "Mail"

Uh, the only hope i had was selling dope

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

Look at what hell got, mail from fish scale docks

Slangin' rocks with your glocks put this tape in your box

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

Like bobby had whitney we was cooking up crack

Put these bitches on lock down, something like jail

With parts of their body through the mail

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

Trying to shake, the crates and fakes and snakes