| Las plagas de la mente
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| Yo soy a quien temes, ha ha ha
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| They call me Sherlock Bones
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| Hellhound for the devil’s throne, uh
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| I’ll kill every last one of you
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| If it means I feel something
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| Hail to the king
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| Hell walks this earth
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| And it dwells beneath my skin
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| Born of a dying mother and violent father
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| I’ll do my best to snuff out your existence
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| I was there when the rain fell
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| When the reaper screamed fear me
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| And helped him out as well
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| That boy did well, but I coulda done better
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| So if you hear me coming
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| Don’t run, you won’t get far
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| Tell me what it’s like, tell me what it’s like
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| Tell me what it’s like being me, motherfucker
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| It’s like kicking rocks in the yard with intentions to harm
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| If death’s on your heels, you won’t get far
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| The devil’s on my back
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| The target’s on my head
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| Humanity’s on my chest constricting my breath
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| Disdain, with a foul taste
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| Noose as a necklace
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| I can’t praise God while keeping a straight face
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| Laughing away at his fucking mistakes
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| I’m not psychopathic
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| Just a little misanthropic
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| Narcissistic to the bone
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| So crawl, crawl on your knees
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| Beg for forgiveness
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| For all your dirty deeds
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| And your dirty needs
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| On your dirty knees
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| In this house of wolves, no one hears your pleas
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| No one talks, not even Jay says hi
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| Just because he never got to kiss his lover goodbye, huh
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| Just 'cause I was the one that kicked out her chair
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| It was funny watching her dangle though, gasping for air
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| Well, this whole shit show is ruled by an iron fist
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| I’m not surprised that dick made a hit list
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| He kicks rocks in the yard with the intentions to harm
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| If I’m on your heels, you won’t get too far
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| The devil’s on my back
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| The target’s on my head
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| Humanity’s on my chest constricting my breath
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| Disdain, with a foul taste
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| Noose as a necklace
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| I can’t praise what’s not really there with a straight face
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| Doctor please, don’t mishear me
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| I’m not misogynistic
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| Just a little misanthropic
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| Ha ha ha
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| I was left outside the devil’s gates
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| So I overthrew him, and now the demons bow to me
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| Not even God will save me now
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| Don’t you know
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| God abandoned me
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| Each case comes another kill
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| 47 down, 47 to go
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| Bow, bow, bow down
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| I’m a bag of bones
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| For the bad Luck hellhounds
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| Iron cuffs, slapped on your wrist tight
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| Spit blood, standing on your windpipe
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| I’m that guy that brings a knife to a gunfight and wins
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| (Only evil within, like a knife blade under the skin)
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| A kill a day keeps the demons at bay
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| But what happens when the only demon left is me?
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| Choir, tell me, tell me, tell me
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| Fucking tell me
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| Burning down your yard with intentions to harm
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| If he’s on your heels, you won’t get too far
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| The devil’s on your back
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| The target’s on your head
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| Humanity’s on your chest constricting your breath
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| Disdain, with a foul taste
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| Noose as a necklace
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| You can’t praise God with the devil in front of your face
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| Laughing away at all your mistakes
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| I’m not psychopathic
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| I just don’t give a fuck what you think
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| Fuck you
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| They call him Sherlock Bones, uh
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| I’m not psychopathic
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| Okay, maybe just a little bit
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| I’m not psychopathic
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| Just a little misanthropic |