“Mediterranea” catapults us into a sultry summer night on an Italian shoreline, where everything shimmers with possibility. Irama paints the scene with glowing streetlights, warm sea breezes, and that irresistible beat that makes strangers lock eyes. The singer knows almost nothing about the girl in front of him, yet sparks fly the moment their bodies start moving together. Gossip swirls in the streets, past loves might soon be forgotten, but none of that matters; for these few hours the world feels like the tetto del mondo – the very rooftop of the world.
At its core, the song celebrates carefree, short-lived passion. It highlights how a dance, a melody on someone’s lips, or the drop of a pareo can erase worries about tomorrow. Irama admits he could lie or reveal nothing at all, because the truth is simple: he will go wherever she goes, as long as the rhythm keeps playing. The Mediterranean backdrop becomes a symbol of freedom, heat, and thrilling unpredictability, inviting the listener to dive in, live in the moment, and let karma handle the rest.
"La Genesi Del Tuo Colore" paints the moment when darkness finally cracks open and lets color rush in. Irama sings to someone caught between sorrow and change, promising that tears can become paint for the soul. Snow cannot break a strong tree, and their pain will not break them either. Instead, they will dance with chills, shout until they lose their voice, and watch a new hue burst from inside. Every beat of the song is a step toward rebirth: forgetting old wounds, choosing a fresh name, and letting a sunrise whisper into the silence.
Think of it as an anthem for transformation. Irama blends images of eclipses, mirrors, and exploding colors to show that true evolution is messy yet beautiful. Cry, sing, jump, stumble—each feeling is a brush-stroke on the canvas of a brand-new self. By the final chorus, sorrow has been traded for vibrancy, and the listener is invited to become the artist of their own bright genesis.
“Tu No” is Irama’s heartbreaking confession of feeling abandoned right when he needed someone the most. The repeated words tu no (“but you, no”) underline his disbelief: everyone else might show up, but the one person he trusted is missing. He pictures himself falling, hitting an icy rock-bottom, wishing that a “stupid song” could magically pull her back or at least preserve her memory. His voice swings between anger, self-blame, and desperate hope, creating a vivid soundtrack for anyone who has ever shouted into the void after a breakup.
Yet the song is not only about pain. As months roll by, Irama hints at eventual healing—he will fall in love again, learn to stand, and refuse to collapse one more time—while accepting that the absent lover will never know the new him. This mix of raw vulnerability and stubborn resilience gives the track its punch: a cathartic, melodramatic anthem that turns personal sorrow into a powerful sing-along moment.
Picture a love so deep that it refuses to stay put. In Ovunque Sarai Irama sings of a bond that seeps into every corner of the universe: the wind that carries a melody, the water that sparkles in the sun, the moon that watches silently from the sky. Even when two people are separated by distance—or by time itself—the singer trusts that their essence will show up in nature’s smallest details. It is a gentle promise that presence can be felt without being seen, and that waiting can turn into a lifelong act of devotion.
Throughout the song Irama stacks vivid images like building blocks of hope. If the loved one becomes light they will warm him, if they turn into time he will wait forever, and if they are simply here his heart will recognize them. The message is clear: true connection never disappears, it just changes shape. The result is an emotional anthem that invites listeners to search for their own special people in every gesture, every silence, and every breath of the world around them.
Ali means “wings” in Italian, and that single word captures the heart of Irama’s song. Imagine climbing a mountain, feeling tiny against the sky, yet picturing someone you love squeezing your hand and giving you courage. Irama sings about trying to grow up fast, wearing those symbolic wings, but realizing they can feel heavy. Instead of soaring, he is happier dancing, bleeding, laughing, and forgetting every bruise – proof that real life is messy and beautifully human.
The chorus repeats like a heartbeat: he will dance, he will bleed, and he will keep moving even when time steals every corner of the sky. Stars whirl overhead, tears threaten to fall, but Irama vows not to be afraid. By the end he decides to rip off those torturous wings; freedom, for him, comes from living on his own terms, not from forced flight. Ali is an anthem of fearless vulnerability – a reminder that we do not need perfect wings to touch the sky; we need honesty, movement, and the memory of the hands that once pulled us upward.
Imagine love, desire, and a touch of late-night anxiety all shaken together like five little drops of medicine slipping into a glass. In “5 Gocce” Irama teams up with Rkomi to capture that restless moment when a fling starts feeling dangerously close to real love. The singer admits he cannot sleep, wonders if it is the Lexotan (an anxiety drug) or the feelings talking, and keeps replaying the line “è solo sesso” — it’s only sex — even though his heart is not so sure.
Across pulsing beats and dreamy melodies, the lyrics float between wanting intimacy and craving solitude. There is the sweetness of flying when he closes his eyes, but also the fear of crashing once the sun comes up. Those “five drops” echo everywhere: they might be medicine, tears, or even shots of courage to face the night. By the end, both artists confess that love might kill them — and they kind of want it to — because every heartbeat, every whispered breath, and every drop in the glass reminds them how alive they feel.
Irama’s "Nera" is a sultry summer anthem that captures the electric spark when two strangers lock eyes in a lively bar. Instantly drawn to a woman draped in black, the singer compares her mystique to the velvet night and a moon-lit shoreline. He coaxes her to slip away from the crowd, toast with another shot, and disappear together where the horizon never ends. The chorus repeats "Nera"—black—to etch her silhouette in our minds while the beat begs everyone to move their hips.
Beneath the playful flirting, the song raises a glass to living in the moment and turning every scar or rumor into fuel for celebration. Irama admits that love is complicated, especially when born from a lightning-quick crush, yet the pull is impossible to resist. He urges her to let her hair down, ignore the naysayers, and dance until dawn. "Nera" ultimately invites us all to embrace the night, glow without filters, and chase passion with carefree joy.
Quando Piove feels like rifling through a box of memories during a thunderstorm. Irama and Rkomi paint a picture of a love that is intensely alive yet always on the edge of falling apart. Moving boxes, jet-lagged emotions, and smoky late-night dances set the scene for two people who keep losing and finding each other. The rain becomes their secret signal: “Look for me when it pours, when the heart cracks, even if you hide the pain.” Every drop mirrors the chaos of feelings that swing from tender confessions to reckless nights fueled by drugs and desire.
Behind the catchy melody lies a question we all ask: Can love survive our messiest selves? The singers admit their flaws, fear of change, and the habit of disappearing just when things get real. Yet they also promise a devotion that shines “like a body bathed in gold.” In the end, Quando Piove is a bittersweet anthem about clinging to someone who makes the storm worth it, hoping that after the rain—and after every mistake—they will still choose each other.
Irama’s Arrogante is the fiery diary of a self-confessed bad boy who just cannot bury his desire. The singer admits he has been “troppo crudo” – as harsh as salt in a fresh cut – yet he is still magnetically drawn to the woman in front of him. Torn between cocky bravado and genuine regret, he flaunts his swagger, teases her to “dance slowly” under the sun, then confesses that the mouth may betray but the heart stays loyal.
Bouncing between steamy dance-floor imagery and sudden flashes of self-awareness, the song paints a picture of two opposites – he is day, she is night – colliding in a push-and-pull romance. While the chorus keeps repeating “sono un arrogante,” each verse chips away at that mask, revealing someone who finally sees how important she truly is. Hot, rhythmic, and packed with playful Italian wordplay, Arrogante turns a simple love confrontation into a vibrant mix of pride, passion, and late-night redemption.
La Ragazza Con Il Cuore Di Latta tells a cinematic story of Linda, a girl whose literal and figurative heartbeat has always been off-beat. Born with a heart problem and trapped in an abusive household, she hides bruises under her school clothes and dreams of fixing herself while staring at clouds. Irama slips into the role of a devoted friend who promises, “Non sei più da sola, ora siamo in due” (“You are no longer alone, now we are two”), offering comfort and solidarity when her own father cannot. The song marries catchy pop melodies with raw storytelling, transforming Linda’s “tin heart” into a symbol of fragile resilience.
As the track unfolds, the metallic echo of that substitute heart becomes a drum that rallies hope. Love here is not glitter and champagne; it is sitting beside someone, sharing their pain, and vowing to stay “comunque vada” (“no matter what”). In the final twist, a new life begins to beat inside Linda’s belly, proving that even a heart of tin can spark fresh beginnings. Irama’s anthem celebrates empathy, survival, and the power of two hearts syncing in perfect time.