**🕯️🎼 *AGÜITA BENDITA (English Andaluz Street Version)***

Look what kinda spell they pinned,

shadow with fangs, no soul within.

Clear like trumpet blast, no pretend,

they preach gold but always bend.

I sense ’em, break ’em, end the chant.

They offered moon, they bit my pulse,

blue blood promise, but it was null.

Handed mirrors, tales of forever,

and I believed… froze in bad weather.

First they lift ya like holy choir,

swear truth with tongue of a liar.

Then they drain ya, neck to the bone,

lion heart gone, battery low.

They whisper doubt like heavy mist,

flip ya rhythm, steal ya gist.

You see their court, their night brigade,

defending plays in crypts they made.

But nah, I saw the bite,

old tricks tastin’ like bitter night.

Actin’ like counts, actin’ divine,

but they just bats without no shine.

I’m like blessed holy water,

healin’ scars they tried to alter.

If the night drops its trailer,

I bring stake and psalm, no failure.

First “I adore ya,” then “I absorb ya,”

faith snatched, and they ignore ya.

You’re their temple till they’re done,

then you’re the beast when they need a son.

No love feelin’, just copy-paste,

clone ya tone, mimic ya face.

Without ya spotlight, they ain’t no owner,

Dracula script, but cheap persona.

But now I don’t sip, now I don’t fold,

I’m antidote creed, the story retold.

Got sacred water to burn their stunt,

black mass heal, no soul they hunt.

*Plin-plin the strings, click-click the keys,*

*boom-boom the pulse, ritual with ease.*

*They fly with theater tales so dark,*

*I cut the beat, dismantle the arc.*

Don’t give ’em heat, don’t give ’em flare,

without ya fire they ain’t nowhere.

Sax says “truth,” trumpet says “sentence”:

“Soulless crowd livin’ off ya presence.”

I’m like Agüita Bendita,

pull crucifix and sacred garlic heater,

here comes the exorcist for narcissist creatures,

and crazy monkeys high like ether,

I cleanse ’em like holy verse, no breather.

If you feel trapped in that gothic show,

where villains suck and heroes go low,

put garlic in tongue, salt in recall,

fake shadows crumble when angels call.

They want devotion, not love, not bond,

collectin’ souls like a game gone wrong.

You got the grace, you got the ember,

they got the fangs, but not the splendor.

I’m the grimoire that snaps their deal,

cross in the shade, bars so real.

Sacred sarcasm, truth blade, no lie,

Saint Andaluz dark when shadows fly.

*Let vampires bring their law,*

*I bring the prayer of the south, no flaw.*

*If they try sippin’, I roar “no,”*

*exorcism runs where I say so.*

I’m like Agüita Bendita flow,

fixin’ the glitch, patchin’ the blow.

If they come like counts, I laugh the art,

without pure blood they fall apart.

Look what spell they pinned,

shadow with fangs, no soul within.

But I’m that water that heals and slays,

Agüita Bendita… pact breaks, throat ablaze....