Learn Spanish With Duki with these 16 Song Recommendations (Full Translations Included!)

Hop on Duko’s unstoppable train! In “Nueva Era,” Argentina’s trap superstar Duki teams up with Puerto Rican heavyweight Myke Towers to celebrate a hard-earned rise from neighborhood battler to global chart-topper. Over a menacing beat they flaunt cheques, diamond chains that shine like Haribo gummies, and first-class flights that never seem to land. It is pure victory-lap energy: they remember doubters who expected them to fall, thank the fans whose prayers turned into platinum plaques, and compare their dominance to legends like Mohammed Ali and even Dragon Ball’s Super Saiyans. The message is clear—this is a new era where talent, grind, and self-belief silence every critic.

Beneath the flexing, the song also highlights the journey behind the glory. Duki salutes the “process,” reminds listeners he once rapped on street corners, and buys a house for his mother before splurging on himself. Myke adds spicy bravado, warning pretenders that his pen is élite while staying “humildón.” Together they turn personal success into a rallying cry for anyone chasing dreams: invest in yourself, back your people, and never hit the brakes. The result is an adrenaline-charged anthem that crowns Duki and Myke as voices of a generation and invites listeners to join the movement—no ticket required.

Duki’s “Ameri” is a victory lap wrapped in a love letter. Over a pulsating trap beat, the Argentine star celebrates how far life has taken him while following his heart as a compass. “Ameri” is the dreamy paradise he longs to share with someone special—a place where your beauty spot meets his rose and both souls click instantly. Every “¿Cómo no sentirme bien…?” line is Duki pinching himself, amazed at the good fortune and creative fire guiding his journey.

Beyond the romantic glow, Duki slips into warrior-poet mode. He calls the trap scene his “university,” boasts of turning haters into fans, and reminds us that a true fighter never loses honor—even in pain. There is no Plan B; instead, he transforms “mission impossible” into possibility. The anthem closes on a tender note: time with his mother, gratitude for second chances, and the urgency to enjoy life now. “Ameri” is both a personal triumph and an open invitation to dream big, stay loyal, and celebrate every hard-earned win.

Vida De Rock paints the bittersweet picture of a young artist who is torn between the thrill of stardom and the warmth of genuine love. Duki and Milo J take us inside the chaos of a rock-star routine, where late-night shows, endless tours, and flashy luxuries replace quiet moments with the person who once mattered most. When the girlfriend finally walks out - emptying closets and tossing the house key onto the couch - the singer is left with tattoos, motorhomes, and a heart full of regret.

Behind the catchy beat, the lyrics wrestle with guilt and loneliness. The narrator admits that climbing “upwards” in the music world isn’t as glamorous as it looks: success comes with hunger, sleepless nights, and self-destructive habits. He recognizes that expensive jewelry can’t turn back time, and no sold-out crowd can fill the empty half of a double bed. In the end, “Vida De Rock” is a confession that fame is loud, but heartbreak is louder.

“Buscarte Lejos” is a high-energy love quest where Duki turns the whole city into a treasure map. No matter how far he has to go, he feels his crush’s presence everywhere: in street signs, in memories, even in the air he breathes. The song mixes urban romance with a dash of magic—he name-drops illusionist Copperfield and compares their instant connection to infrared vision, as if they could see each other’s souls in a single glance.

Under Bizarrap’s hypnotic beat, Duki recounts sneaking into her concert “for a friend,” meeting her mom, and snapping mental photos of her smile. He is willing to follow her lead (“Vos marcás el sendero, yo camino atrás”) because what they share seems to bend reality: infinity has no end, and their story has no clear definition. In short, it is a passionate chase where distance means nothing, imagination feels real, and love outshines the rain-soaked streets of Buenos Aires.

Barro is Duki’s autobiographical victory lap, a track where the Argentine star wipes the mud off his sneakers to show how far he has come. He remembers being the “miracle of mamá” born in ’96, already dancing salsa at his abuela’s house and dreaming of music before kindergarten. From there, the song zig-zags through his life: skipping school yet building his own business, going from an invisible kid in Almagro to the neighborhood’s brightest star, and swapping anxiety for aires de grandeza.

Over a bouncy beat he flashes gratitude, defiance, and vulnerability all at once. Duki thanks the fans who chant his lyrics like a football crowd, brags that his words are powerful enough to fill a printing press, and promises to keep pushing as long as he wakes up with desire. “Barro” is equal parts love letter to family, ode to self-belief, and reminder that every shining crown was once covered in clay.

Trato De Estar Bien feels like opening the pages of Duki and Morad’s personal journals, only the words are blasted through speakers with booming bass. The Argentine‐Spanish duo turn scars into lyrics, admitting that “hay cosas que están muy mal” yet choosing to fight one battle at a time until the dream comes true. Money is not the trophy here – real wealth is seeing Mom smile, friends stay loyal, and family live the life they once imagined. Every punch they take from the streets or the music industry just sharpens their resolve to hit “restart” and climb again.

The song also doubles as a warning flare to the rap game. Duki and Morad call out fake freedom, quick‐fix fame, and hollow online flexing, contrasting it with their own grit, study hours, and ice‐cold heart / red‐hot hands routine. They own their contradictions – humble yet ego‐driven, addicted to success yet aware of time running out – and remind listeners that a legacy is built, not inherited. In short, “Trato De Estar Bien” is a defiant celebration of staying sane, staying real, and staying up no matter how heavy life gets.

Welcome to the neon-soaked night where Lola rules the dance floor. Duki paints her as a fearless, self-reliant femme fatale: she mixes her own drinks, rolls her own smoke, and sparks more drama than any drug. With every move she hypnotizes the crowd, and Duki can’t look away. Her white outfit glows, her confidence blazes, and everyone around her is either fighting for her attention or backing off in awe.

For Duki, Lola is pure addiction. He admits he’s bitten her hook “like a fish,” trapped between desire and danger. Calling her a “pecado” he’s “condenado” to, he begs for the lights to go out if she isn’t the one to dim them. The song captures that rush of irresistible attraction: thrilling, risky, and impossible to escape. Over pounding trap beats and street-smart lyrics, Duki turns a late-night crush into an anthem for anyone who’s ever fallen hard for someone they know could break their heart.

Brindis is Duki’s high-octane toast to success, swagger and healthy rivalry. Over a trap beat that bounces between Buenos Aires and London, the Argentine star flaunts his designer drip, sold-out stadiums and lightning-fast flows, reminding listeners that yesterday’s kids now fill the Bernabéu. Yet the celebration is not just for friends; Duki raises his glass to his enemies, wishing them well so the competition stays sharp. Every luxury label, sports-arena flex and chess reference underlines one idea: he has earned his spot and refuses to be anyone’s pawn.

Headie One’s verse broadens the picture. From Dior loafers on a yacht to memories of near-misses with jail or addiction, the UK rapper echoes Duki’s climb while stressing the loneliness and vigilance that come with the throne. Together they craft an anthem of ambition, resilience and gratitude, proving that obstacles—whether street dangers or online haters—are just fuel for bigger dreams and louder victories.

Imperio is a lavish love-letter where Argentine trap star Duki and Spanish singer Judeline picture their romance as something colossal. Duki vows to build an empire and even a castillo de nubes – a castle made of clouds – so their connection can float freely like waves. He promises loyalty that “God can hear,” flies across the planet for her, and admires her beauty as if it were more valuable than the Louvre’s treasures. Judeline answers with equal devotion, calling his mouth her home and racing through the sky whenever he feels low. Together they dream of balconies with flowers, nights spent singing to the stars, and a life of luxurious intimacy carved out for just the two of them.

Beyond the love story, the track is a manifesto of artistic independence and self-belief. Duki celebrates being autodidact, turning beats into gold, and creating “portals” that anyone brave enough can travel through. He dismisses social-media pretenders, trusts his small circle, and acknowledges a divine plan guiding his meteoric rise. At only 21, he is crafting a kingdom of music and ambition, and with Judeline beside him the future looks “maravilloso.” The result is a song that blends romantic fantasy with hustler confidence, inviting listeners to dream big, love hard, and build their own imperio.

Wake Up & Bake Up is a high-energy anthem where Argentine trap star Duki teams up with Wiz Khalifa and Arcángel to celebrate their favorite morning ritual: lighting up, getting inspired and proving doubters wrong. The repeated hook “I wake up, I bake up” (or in Spanish, “Despierto y prendo”) turns the simple act of smoking into a symbol of daily motivation. For these artists, cannabis is more than relaxation; it fuels their creativity, keeps them calm under pressure and reminds them how far they have climbed from skeptics’ remarks to magazine covers and worldwide tours.

Throughout the verses they mix swagger with humor, bragging about monster-sized joints, exclusive strains like Khalifa Kush and business moves such as opening overseas dispensaries. Yet underneath the smoke lies a clear message: hard work and self-belief make them unstoppable. When Duki raps that his pockets stay full and his new single “turns off” competitors’ albums, he highlights perseverance, pride in Latin hip-hop and the confidence to face any obstacle. In short, the song is both a victory lap and a daily mantra—wake up, spark up and keep pushing toward the top.

“Cine” feels like a blockbuster trailer for Duki’s own life. Across swagger-packed bars, the Argentine rapper compares his rise from the streets of Buenos Aires to controlling a whole country “like Gaara,” sparks up a cigarette and declares, “Esto es cine.” He jumps between anime shout-outs, golden party scenes richer than Versailles and European tours where a tattooed Latino turns heads. Every line brims with cinematic flair: fast cuts of ambition, luxury, and fearless self-promotion, all underscored by a beat that rolls out the red carpet.

Beneath the fireworks, Duki delivers a message of relentless self-belief. He reminds listeners that success comes from raw attitude, not rehearsed poses; that haters will always talk, but he’s too busy “cooking” new flows to notice. There is Argentine pride (“perdón si me creo campeón del mundo”), playful bravado about snagging a Grammy before thirty, and a gambler’s acceptance that life is a casino where high stakes are the only way to win. In short, “Cine” is Duki’s loud, confident proclamation that his reality is already movie-worthy—and anyone doubting him can just sit back, light up, and watch the show.

Un Día Más feels like stepping into an all-night studio session with Duki and YSY A, where every lyric drips swagger and determination. They rap about “spitting gold”, surviving marathon recordings, and turning their so-called “mental lagoons” into paradise islands of creativity. Haters are brushed off as undercover fans, while the duo surf poisoned glasses, punch Pink-Floyd-sized holes in walls, and drop NBA references to show how effortlessly they switch styles. In short, the verses are a fireworks display of metaphors that celebrate talent, confidence, and a love for hip-hop that keeps them awake for forty-eight straight hours.

The chorus turns those long nights into a simple mantra: one more day. Each repeat is a victory lap for perseverance—another sunrise earned through sacrificed sleep, another chance to outgrow the past and sharpen their legacy. Behind the flashy imagery lies a deeper message about staying pure, listening to one’s ancestors, and valuing honest gestures over fame. The track invites listeners to chase their own passions with the same relentless energy, because sometimes the biggest win is just making it to “un día más.”

No Drama is Duki’s rallying cry for living like a modern-day gladiator: fearless, prosperous and absolutely unbothered by haters. Together with Ovi and Lucho SSJ, the Argentine star flips betrayal and envy on their heads, repeating a catchy “no, no, no drama” mantra while boasting about jet-setting, designer fits and stacked bank accounts. The track celebrates how far they’ve come—from neighborhood grind to global stages—reminding listeners that self-belief and a tight-knit crew can turn raw talent into an empire.

Behind the floss and flexing, the message is simple: keep your circle loyal, work every day “todos los malditos días” and treat negativity like background noise. If sharks circle or fake friends appear, the response is calm confidence rather than chaos. “No Drama” is an anthem for anyone who wants to protect their peace while leveling up—proof that you can chase big dreams, honor family (ohana) and still keep it cool when trouble tries to crash the party.

“Rockstar” is Duki’s loud, swagger-packed declaration that he has climbed from the barrio to the big leagues without losing his essence. At every turn he repeats me queda bien (it suits me) to show that lies, gossip, and sudden riches all look good on him, because he owns his narrative. Surrounded by haters who “can’t stand seeing us so high,” he still gazes at his old avenue from a nearby mansion, reminding listeners that success hasn’t erased his roots. The presence of a loyal partner gives him courage, yet most of the track is pure bravado: sports shout-outs, boasts about ruling his league like Jordan, and the confession that he pops pills just like the rock icons he idolizes.

Underneath the flashy references, the message is simple: believe your own hype before anyone else does. Duki invites learners to explore Argentine trap culture, where confidence, street credibility, and vulnerability mix into one addictive anthem of self-made stardom.

“She Don't Give A FO” plunges us into a whirlwind romance where passion meets indifference. Duki and KHEA confess a fierce obsession with a woman who is as captivating as she is unattainable. The chorus keeps hammering the same idea: she simply doesn’t care. While the guys burn with desire, she keeps her cool, leaving them oscillating between fiery lust and icy frustration. Their mixed Spanish-English lines mirror their mixed emotions, painting a nightlife scene of smoky clubs, fleeting kisses, and mornings filled with silence.

Beneath the swagger, the lyrics expose a deeper ache. The narrator feels like a junkie craving his fix, desperate to fill an inner void. He wants to be her king but fears she only sees his mood swings and uncertain future. Calling her a diabla, he admits her indifference almost feels destined. In the end, the song captures that bittersweet tension of wanting someone who refuses to play by the rules, all wrapped in a hypnotic trap beat that makes heartache sound thrilling.

Si Te Sentís Sola (If You Feel Lonely) is DUKI’s late-night promise that no shot of tequila can fill the void like a simple phone call to him. Over a moody trap beat, the Argentine star speaks directly to a girl who scrolls through empty parties and half-finished drinks once the club lights dim. They both know the chemistry has been building all along, so DUKI keeps his phone glued to his hand, ready to answer and turn that lingering desire into a real-life rendezvous.

Between playful Spanglish lines and shout-outs to hustling, weed and the dance floor, DUKI lets us peek behind his superstar persona. Fame, envy and street swagger swirl around him, yet what he truly craves is the spark he feels with this “divina” who has already conquered the corner. He offers a deal: she can be his Fashion Killa, he’ll be her Rocky, and together they’ll own the night. In short, the song is a catchy reminder that genuine connection beats any party vibe—sometimes all it takes is one late-night call.