| They wonder in the pines,
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| How could he escape
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| If she carried a bracelet,
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| She brought personal maraca,
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| The capo did not say goodbye,
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| Because he hates goodbyes,
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| They count from aisle twelve,
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| The chapito was in a hurry,
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| Everything comes just in time
|
| For the one who knows how to wait,
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| Seeing myself in four walls,
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| I let go of the plan,
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| I went down the stairs,
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| Against the clock he battled,
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| Freedom felt close,
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| I could almost scratch her
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| Like the water between the hands,
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| I always look for the exit,
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| Sometimes I am a knife,
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| Other times I am hurt,
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| This is how they receive El Chapo,
|
| Joaquín told his men about him,
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| smiles from side to side,
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| I have returned my kids,
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| He walked through a passage,
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| More than a mile and a half,
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| I had a ticket for the trip,
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| But not for the return,
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| I went down the stairs,
|
| Against the clock he battled,
|
| Freedom felt close,
|
| I could almost scratch her
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| Here you are general,
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| how good it is to look at it outside,
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| I give you back your gun,
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| And also his black cap,
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| cell number twenty,
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| He will never set foot again
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| Ivan told his plebs about him,
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| He came back to peel my dad |