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letra de combat - p walsh

[verse 1]
i think i’m a little too lyrical for this generation
’cause they don’t want to hear bars
they want to hear product placement
these thots are basic and they’re listening to the popping playlist
i’m fraught with hatred, it’s hard to say and admit it
but honestly who the h-ll am i kidding?
i wish the children would listen to lyrics
but now music’s just background noise
at the shindigs, l-sting, denouncing their poise
it’s poison the mindless route the youth is choosing
boozing, drooling, and losing
this sh-t is so confusing
there’s so much overdoing
no producing just garbage brewing
bruising on my back, life slamming me on the mat
but i’m bouncing back ready for that hand to hand combat

[hook]
c-o-m-b-a-t want that combat? come see me
c-o-m-b-a-t half way jackie, half bruce lee
c-o-m-b-a-t k!lling beats with karate
c-o-m-b-a-t we stand alone like currahee!
c-o-m-b-a-t call the army, navy, and marines because i’m ready for the c-o-m and the b-a-t

[verse 2]
like i said i’m ready for the combat
i’m like brady on the pats with the comeback
i’m like tony up to bat, call me womack
woah pat, that flow fast i really thinking that you better slow that
these little kids just don’t appreciate the art, no cluniac
sick as sh-t so i just hit the clinic
god hit me up, i lied and said that i’d be right there in a minute
at least i ain’t got the devil in my liver
at least i ain’t got scales and don’t slither
mom heard the songs and she said, “cut it out, mister”
i said sorry ma, i gotta feed the listeners
made a couple sloppy songs
now i think i bomb because of the plays i got

[verse 3]
i’m a crazy man, i’ve really lost it this time
anybody in their right mind could recognize and see the signs
i conceive i’ll be the reason why seedlings feed their minds
this rap sh-t is so easy, it’s a breeze, i’m fine
forget that nine to five, i’d rather leave a steaming nine
eat some freezing needles
then wash them down with some seasoned knives
but i’ll keep cheesing, keeping my evils inside
i’m an eagle when i fly, promoting freedom as i glide
providing scriptures in my lines ‘til my fingers getting tired
so it’s tunnel vision ’til the carpal tunnel, brother
success in my iris until i got arthritis
can’t wait to have the touch of midas
minus being mindless and spineless, the financial crisis
won’t let the dollar signs cloud my sinus or blind my eyes
it’s me, imma always stay righteous

- p walsh

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