[Hook: Pouya]
Move that bitch to the back! x 16
(To the back!)
(To the back boy!)
(To the back!)
(To the mother fuckin' back boy!)

[Verse 1: Sir Michael Rocks]
I said every time I be tryna chill, ma'fuckas in my grill like lil' a piece of charcoal n***a
All up in a real n***as face, give a real n***a space, line em' up like a barcode n***a
Been getting more vile, and my temper getting shorter. Drop the baking soda in then mix it with the water (Mix it with the water)
Espada with the work, black tears you da curator
I command all you fuckers to buss and that's an order (Buss!)
I lit the cigarette, flick the ash in your fuckin' drink..
Purple or it's pink I don't give a shit..
As long as the n***as that you n***as with don't make no sudden moves
Came here with the hyena I'll let this fucker loose!
If you try me, you wit it and you ain't scared of shotties
Just grabbed the sawwed off and shoot a n***a out his Buggati
Just pick a stone up and throw it at the ho that you hatin'
And move them bitches to the back if they get in your way..

Chorus x1

[Verse 2: Pouya]
You don't want no problems (Oh no, no)
We know how to solve them (Oh no, no)
I caught that boy slippin'(Oh no, no)
Just a lesson that we taught him (Oh no, no)
Took his bitch, yeah we robbed him (Oh no, no)
I'm flexin' in this ho (Oh no, no)
Been in the game with no lane with a claim so you main stream rappers can know
I, go with the flow as I do it.. Say you gon' pop me don't be a bitch do it
Talkin' that shit you a pussy I knew it
Finna fuck you up my dogs gon' get stupid
You soft as fuck remind me of mashed potatoes
Scary bitch I'm in the cut like I'm Fredo
Got you leakin' lookin' red like tomatoes
Little Pouya leave the pussy disabled, yuh!
Chorus x1