This is a song about "Postal"

Polices that were broken i lay it to ya, im well spoken

The bros and hoes know that going postal is not chosen,

My rhymes are platinum hits, see? you'll always be fool's gold.

Suppose that i'm supposed to go so postal 'cuz my flows are cold,

Cold i'm no supposed to go postal as long as still with homes,

Cattle to the slaughter they all wander like drones