I Don’t Give A F...

The Creators ft. Big Kwam - “I Don’t Give a F…”
[Emcee(s): Big Kwam]
[Producer(s): The Creators (Juliano & Si Spex)]

[Hook (Overlapped with Interlude): Sample with Scratches by The Creators]
“Buck, buck, buck ‘cause I don’t give a motherfuck” - Sample from KRS-One - “Ah-Yeah” (x4)

[Interlude (Overlapped with Hook): Big Kwam]
One, two, Big Kwam. Check it out

[Verse 1: Big Kwam]
Yo
Niggas know the stats. When I bomb cats, they’re history
Like almanacs from cyclone attacks and raw raps (No doubt)
Now I monopolize hi-hats for youths to
Supply cracks, run with live cats who leave your eyes black
Kwam will leave battles unscathed regardless of
Gun sprays. On Sundays, I’ll toast you like you sunbathe (Blao!)
Plus my steez don’t revolve around copping pleas
On enemies, with intense degrees, when I dispense with ease
I’ll lacerate and I’ll blast a jake at a faster rate
Than a pastor makes sermons at a bastard’s wake
So feel the pent-up fury of a mooley
Who’s moody enough to cuff your hand without a judge and jury
Metamorphic rap cocoons’ll hit niggas with
Shrapnel wounds, gun-clap platoons and put them back in tombs
Word to Moses, bringing careers to closures
With lines that disposes of all the characters and posers (Word!)
Whose heart ain’t in it while the god printed rhymes
That limit the nicest to a bitch with his ego dented
I got raw skills that’s sharper than sawmills
A Rotten Apple’s core still about who got more bills
Some bless me with the SP so I can stress the
Niggas who got me at Boiling Point like Wesley
I milk beats ‘til they’re left redundant, only to be
Funded by the blunted who come to my shows in the hundreds
Visualize what my mind has drawn, my mental be
The womb with which rhymes is born, it’s on when I leave mics torn

[Hook: Sample with Scratches by The Creators]
“Buck, buck, buck ‘cause I don’t give a motherfuck” - Sample from KRS-One - “Ah-Yeah” (x5)

[Verse 2: Big Kwam]
Yo
I display moves that slay crews without the
Assistance of tools, I break fool and enslave grooves
Kwam extra lethal, never sweats the feeble. I flex
My cerebral and inject niggas like needles (True!)
Deadlier than a Sensei’s boots. Brave
Recruits flew the coup when I bomb shit like Babe Ruth
‘Cause they know, when the man drop like Arabian sands
Hot, niggas fry, puff more Thai than Bangkok (Say what?)
And every paragraph is triggered by smoke. I figure:
Why provoke and have high hopes to get your props revoked?
I’m holding cliques at ransom, money grip my anthem
I spit clips as my style switches like dancing
I’ll leave domes split like chapped lips. BBS
Chrome and fat whips attract chicks when I mack shit
But Kwam ain’t the one to be fucking herbing, you
Blood-sucking vermin just get fucked until your pussy’s burning
See, I’m hip to the game, plus I rip through your frame
So maintain. I get personal like name-chains
I hold the mic like a tight clamp to get hype, champ
When I’m amped, more shit jump off than bike ramps
From stages to street corners, I defeat performers
All the weak are goners when the Kwam bring more heat than saunas
I keep a low profile like the Masked Avenger
Dismember contenders, leave ‘em crushed like car fenders
Yeah!

[Hook (Overlapped with Outro): Sample with Scratches by The Creators]
“Bowe” - Sample from KRS-One - “Ah-Yeah” (x8)

[Outro (Overlapped with Hook): Big Kwam]
How you like that, black?
One time, one time, hitting skins from the back
Big Kwam up in the check
Know’m saying? Recognize
And I’m out like the third strike