I Don’t Give a F…

Lyrics

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