Learn Spanish With Feid with these 23 Song Recommendations (Full Translations Included!)

“LUNA” is a late-night confession booth set to a smooth Urbano beat. Feid, alongside producer-rapper ATL Jacob, dives straight into that disorienting moment after a breakup when your mind keeps replaying old scenes: trembling knees, stolen smiles, wild nights that were never meant for sleeping. The narrator roams emotional backstreets, cigarette in hand, wondering when his ex stopped calling him “mi reina” and started chasing flashier thrills — trading “plata” for “oro.”

Under the neon glow of regret, the song toggles between nostalgia and frustration. One second he dreams of forgiving her; the next he reminds her not to call when loneliness hits. The hook, “No supe qué día te olvidaste de mí,” hammers home that painful blur where love fades without a timestamp. “LUNA” captures that universal heartbreak puzzle: how someone can go from priceless treasure to distant stranger overnight, leaving you to dance with your memories until sunrise.

Feid’s “SE LO JURO MOR” feels like opening a private voice note meant for an ex-lover. In the first breath he promises to leave her in peace, yet every line that follows reveals how deep the wound still is. The Colombian singer looks back on a romance that seemed perfect on the surface, only to discover masks and borrowed kisses. He admits he lost the classic love game—“el que se enamora, pierde”—and wrestles with the shock of realizing that someone he thought was different could walk away so easily.

The track then shifts from heartbreak to healing-in-progress. Feid tries to numb the sting by club-hopping and spending cash, insisting he won’t waste another minute, but the pain keeps doubling each time the memory cracks his heart. The swagger in his delivery can’t hide questions that haunt him: Who hurt you before me? How could you forget me so fast? With a mix of Spanish and English, he’s both vulnerable and defiant, finally telling her to let go and stop texting “te extraño.” The result is a catchy confession that turns personal heartbreak into a dance-floor anthem, proving that even in pain, Feid knows how to keep the vibe alive.

"HULU" is Feid's invitation to a steamy night where reggaetón beats slow down just enough for bodies to sync. Over glittering synths, the Colombian singer reminisces about an unforgettable encounter: the taste of desire ("estuvo deli"), the instant readiness to relive it, and the dizzying chemistry that makes the room spin. The hook repeats like a pulse, highlighting how the duo's attraction burns "más caliente que un punto de venta," hotter than a card reader that never stops swiping.

At the same time, the song is pure party fuel. Feid paints a scene where the crew wants perreo and a crowd of confident women in mini skirts and bikini tans flood the dance floor. Freedom, flirtation, and rhythmic hips mix with that slow reggaetón tempo, turning the club into a space where nothing exists but the music, the heat, and the promise of another wild memory. Think of "HULU" as a short film of nighttime celebration: press play and you step inside the story.

Perfecta pairs Colombian stars Feid and Greeicy in a vibrant celebration of self-confidence and magnetic first impressions. The song opens with pure admiration: she feels amazing, her dress fits flawlessly, and even the night seems to revolve around her glow. Listeners are invited to picture a confident woman who walks out the door owning every step, so radiant that the moon gets jealous while the sun claims it saw her shine first. Feid urges her to let loose and dance, capturing that electric moment when someone’s presence lights up the entire scene.

As the playful back-and-forth unfolds, “Perfecta” becomes more than simple compliments. The singers trade flirty lines about honesty, independence, and the thrill of possibility. She reminds him that she doesn’t need anyone to define her perfection, yet she’s curious enough to listen if he says something truly original. He, in turn, promises sincerity because real connection matters more than smooth talk. Together they craft an upbeat anthem about embracing your own worth, being genuine, and letting love arise naturally when two confident souls meet.

Classy 101 is a high-energy reggaetón lesson in irresistible contrasts. Feid and Puerto Rican rapper Young Miko paint the picture of a woman who looks runway-ready in her Valentino, yet lives for wild, after-hours adventures. The singers can’t get her out of their heads: her polished, “bitchy‐classy” vibe hides a thrill-seeker who prefers freaky and nasty over candle-lit romance. Every verse highlights this double life—luxury labels by day, boundary-pushing fun by night—while the pounding beat mirrors the tension between elegance and raw desire.

At its core, the song is a playful flirtation packed with braggadocio and steamy wordplay. Feid and Young Miko celebrate confident femininity, admitting they are hooked on her danger as much as her beauty. Instead of slow love, they offer house-arrest fantasies, speeding tickets for seductive glances, and promises to make every texted fantasy come true. “Classy 101” is less about flowers and more about adrenaline—an anthem for anyone who loves to mix designer outfits with unfiltered fun on the dance-floor.

Get ready to dive into a story of pure heartbreak with Feid's "Que Vuelta Vox." This song is a raw and emotional look at the aftermath of a painful breakup. Feid pours his heart out, singing about the shock and confusion of being left by someone he deeply loved. He feels foolish and angry for believing her promises, especially after discovering she was with someone else. The song captures that terrible feeling when you realize everything you thought was true was a lie.

As the song continues, you can feel his desperation grow. He's lost more than just a girlfriend; he says his mental health left with her. To cope with the pain, he turns to alcohol and isolation, staying home for months and longing for her to return. Listen for the mix of powerful emotions in his voice:

• Anger at being deceived
• Sadness over losing her
• Hope that she's suffering too and will come back

"Que Vuelta Vox" is a perfect example of a 'tusa' (a Colombian slang word for heartbreak) anthem, where Feid feels that the person who caused the pain is the only one who can heal it.

“SI TÚ SUPIERAS” is Feid’s late-night voice note that was never sent. Over a warm Reggaeton beat, the Colombian star confesses how every party, workout, and Miami sunset is really a failed attempt to erase one unforgettable girl. He scrolls through her stories full of broken-heart emojis, sees other guys sliding into her DMs, and still claims them all as “hijos míos” because their moves could never match his. The song flips between swagger and vulnerability: one minute he is bragging about chains, gyms, and Hot Girl Summer pics, the next he is admitting that any minute spent without her feels “tiempo perdido.”

At its core, this track is a dance-floor plea for a second chance. Feid asks her to keep his sunglasses so she will think of him whenever the beat drops, hoping the rhythm will spark a memory of the goodbye kiss they once shared. The chorus repeats like a looping thought—if only she knew everything he has done to forget her—and the song ends with a bold wish for just one more night together. It is equal parts heartbreak soundtrack and perreo invitation, proving that in Reggaeton, even the toughest “bandido” can be ruled by the heart.

Prohibidox is Feid’s spicy confession about a romance that lives in the shadows. Over a smooth reggaetón beat, he wonders “¿Por qué lo más rico siempre es prohibido?” and paints vivid scenes of late-night motorcycle rides, hidden smoke sessions, and secret hotel rooms. The thrill of sneaking around heightens every feeling: she wakes up next to another man, yet dreams about Feid, while he can’t stop sending her daring texts that keep the flame alive.

Behind the catchy hooks, the song captures the tug-of-war between desire and consequence. Feid insists their connection is real—everything else is “feka” (fake). Even though their relationship breaks the rules, he celebrates the excitement of being the only one who truly knows how to “tocar tu piel.” It’s a soundtrack for anyone who’s ever felt the magnetic pull of something (or someone) they technically shouldn’t have, wrapped in the signature vibe of Colombia’s rising star.

“Vente Conmigo” (“Come With Me”) drops us right into a steamy, neon-lit club where Feid, the Colombian hit-maker, locks eyes with someone who instantly outshines every other admirer. Over a hypnotic reggaetón beat, he paints himself as the one who truly sees her sparkle: he offers his jacket when the night air bites, the drinks she likes are ready, and—always mindful—he has protection for whatever sparks may fly. While plenty of “perros” are after her, Feid’s confidence and playful swagger convince her that destiny, not chance, put them in each other’s path.

The lyrics celebrate a night of mutual chemistry and bold flirtation. She owns her sensuality, teasing and dancing to the “wavy” rhythm, and he vows that what happens between them will stay private—no witnesses, just good vibes. Under the pulsing lights, “Vente Conmigo” becomes an invitation to let go, dance close, and follow instinct wherever it leads. The result is a track that pulses with freedom, consent, and the thrill of choosing one unforgettable moment over countless ordinary options.

SORRY 4 THAT MUCH is Feid’s bittersweet goodbye note, served over an irresistible reggaetón groove. The Colombian hitmaker raises a glass to the fun he shared with an ex—those wild nights, the legendary party in Berlin, the feeling of being truly happy—then admits that all he has left are photos and mixed emotions. The beat invites you to dance while the lyrics confess, Me hiciste tan feliz… estoy mejor sin ti, capturing the push and pull of gratitude and heartache.

In just a few verses Feid swings from vulnerable to defiant. He remembers waiting at home while she was out cheating, giving up bad habits to please her, and ignoring his friends. Now he rejects her calls, splurges his cash on new parties, and tells her to save her tears because she already has someone else. The result is a raw, relatable anthem about realizing your worth, thanking the past for its lessons, and turning heartbreak into fuel for one last perreo.

Reggaeton rarely feels this raw. In “SE ME OLVIDA,” Colombian hit-maker Feid teams up with Maisak to turn the dance floor into a confessional booth. Behind the pulsing beat lies a guy who keeps partying and calling his ex, only to momentarily forget that she has moved on. Each verse is a scoreboard of failed attempts to erase her: first sad night at the club, second dance with someone else, third drunk dial. Weed, liquor and loud music become his coping kit, yet every chorus snaps him back to the painful truth – the love of his life is now loving someone else.

Despite the heartbreak, the song is playful and vivid. Feid compares luxury brands he never bought her with the cheap guaro (aguardiente) they once shared, remembers how invincible he felt by her side and even dreams of a spontaneous bathroom rendezvous at the disco. The contrast between the upbeat rhythm and the bittersweet lyrics captures a universal feeling: trying to dance your sorrows away while memories hit harder than the bass. “SE ME OLVIDA” is a catchy, neon-lit reminder that moving on is tougher than it looks when every beat, bottle and blurry night still spells her name.

Sígueme ('Follow Me') invites us into Feid's neon-lit universe of instant chemistry and late-night promises. Over a smooth reggaetón beat, the Colombian artist paints the picture of two people who are undeniably drawn to each other and tired of playing games. He urges his love interest to stop hesitating, slip away from the crowd and surrender to the moment, turning a simple night out into an intimate adventure that lasts until breakfast in bed.

Beneath the seductive lyrics and catchy hook lies a message about seizing desire while it is blazing hot. Feid celebrates confidence, honesty and living in the now: if you feel the spark, act on it, follow him to the dance floor, to the street, or straight to the sheets, and let secrets be whispered only to his pillow. "Sígueme" is a playful reminder that sometimes passion works best when you skip the small talk and dive right in.

Feliz Cumpleaños Ferxxo is like a voice note sent from the middle of a wild birthday party. Tipsy and nostalgic, Feid toasts himself while dialing up an ex-girlfriend, teasing that she should ditch “ese pirobo” (a Colombian insult for a loser) and join him on the dance floor. Over pounding reggaetón beats, he flashes back to the nights they burned up the club together, promising fresh drinks, hard perreo, and friends who will hype up the vibe.

Beneath the neon lights, the lyrics reveal a mix of celebration and regret. Feid admits he still thinks about her every night, even mixing pills with rum to numb the feelings. He brags about the chain he bought to see her shine and even offers plomo (lead) to any jealous ex who gets in the way. The result is a birthday anthem that blends swagger, longing, and raw Colombian slang—perfect for anyone who’s ever tried to party away a lingering heartbreak.

PORFA is a heartfelt plea set to a smooth reggaetón groove. From the very first line, we walk into a messy breakup scene: phones buzzing with incriminating texts, jealousy on both sides, and a guy who knows he messed up “no fue una, fueron tres.” Feid and Justin Quiles paint the picture of a lover caught red-handed, yet hopelessly addicted to the very person he betrayed. He admits the rumors, twists, and late-night mistakes, but also insists that no other “baby” compares. The chorus repeats like a desperate voice note: “Please, don’t go, stay with me.”

Under the infectious beat, the song’s core message is simple and raw: regret plus obsession equals a last-ditch apology. The narrator can’t eat, sleep, or even flirt without thinking of her. Karma is knocking, memories haunt every sip of wine, and he’s left clinging to the hope of one more chance. “PORFA” turns a guilty confession into an anthem for anyone who’s ever begged for forgiveness on the dance floor.

Brickell is a late-night postcard from Miami’s trendy skyline, where Feid and Yandel replay the memories of a short-lived, super-intense romance. In the song, the apartment in Brickell becomes a time capsule: every promise, every sunrise they shared, and even the half-eaten dinners at hot spots like Papi Steak and Gekko are frozen inside those walls. The narrator can’t shake the feeling that he should have seized that “last time,” stealing the entire day with her before she slipped away. Now he roams the city on a “cacería,” partying, hooking up, even sparking up when he normally wouldn’t, all to drown out the sting of seeing her treat him like a stranger.

Under the smooth reggaetón beat, the lyrics flip between bold confidence and raw vulnerability. One moment he flexes memories of a steamy rendezvous in a Porsche, the next he’s parking outside her place hoping to catch a glimpse. The contrast paints a picture of modern love—fast, flashy, yet filled with what-ifs. Ultimately, Brickell is a bittersweet anthem about how the most vibrant nights can leave the deepest shadows when dawn comes and the person you thought was yours no longer recognizes you.

"Boleritoxx" is Feid's take on heartbreak, set to a bolero-inspired rhythm. A year after a breakup, he's still surrounded by reminders of her: her scent, the couch they used to share, memories saved in old videos. He hasn't moved on, even while trying to convince himself something better is coming.

The tone stays gentle rather than bitter. He holds no grudges and genuinely wishes her well, but admits he's still the one drinking away the nights and missing her most when he's supposed to be happy. Underneath the soft delivery, "Boleritoxx" is about the quiet, ordinary ache of missing someone long after everyone assumes you've moved on.

Feid’s “AMOR DE MI VIDA” feels like reading late-night texts no one was ever supposed to see. The Colombian artist confesses that, even while partying with “otro culo,” lighting a Phillie and trying every possible distraction, he can’t shake the thirst for the one woman he calls the love of his life. There was never a proper goodbye, so the singer spirals between regret, jealousy and raw desire, admitting he still tracks her online and replays memories of nights spent “sin condón.” The chorus pulses with urgency: “Dime si tú vienes o yo voy… esto no puede pasar de hoy,” a plea for an immediate reunion before the chance slips away forever.

The song captures that bittersweet space where moving on feels impossible. Feid owns up to his mistakes, imagines she might be with someone new and still believes their bond is unbreakable. His lyrics swing from swagger to vulnerability, reminding listeners that no party, hookup or smoke session can erase a love that never got its final chapter. In short, “AMOR DE MI VIDA” is a reggaeton-laced diary entry about longing, late apologies and the hope that true love might answer the phone one more time.

Feid, the Colombian star of the urbano scene, turns heartache into a catchy confession in "Ferxxo 500". The lyrics follow a narrator who once lost sleep begging for a lover’s affection, only to discover that their return feels “extraño.” He lists the wounds—ignored calls, lonely nights, and scarred memories—then realizes that life without this person might actually be “lo mejor que me podría pasar.”

Instead of dwelling on pain, Feid flips the script: he admits the hurt, but celebrates the freedom that comes after finally saying adiós. From Tiffany jewels left on to missed calls from Italy, every detail paints a picture of a love that fizzled while the beat keeps listeners moving. The song’s core message is clear: learn from the scars, dance through the healing, and never settle for a love that pays you back with dolor.

Ferxxo 100 feels like a 3 a.m. voicemail you never meant to send. Over a smooth reggaeton beat, Feid turns his heartbreak into a night-long monologue: he is drunk again, scrolling through his phone, replaying the tracks he once dedicated to his ex, and lighting up where they used to share secret moments. Each line drips with late-night nostalgia, blending sly Colombian slang with universal feelings of “I miss you but I don’t want to admit it.”

At its core, the song is a push-and-pull between moving on and holding tight. Feid tries dating someone new, roaming the streets in hopes of a random encounter, and bombarding his lost love with voice-note songs. Still, every new face only reminds him of her. His plea is simple yet raw: “If you don’t come back, may God protect you”—a bittersweet mix of resignation and hope. “Ferxxo 100” shows that even in a club-ready track full of catchy hooks and Colombian references, vulnerability can take center stage and turn heartbreak into a sing-along anthem.

"La Mejor Música" is Feid's invitation to someone he wants close tonight. He opens with a wish to be with her until dawn, framing her presence as something that heals him ("cure me, heal me, this poisoned soul") and warms even the coldest nights. It's flirtatious and direct: he's not shy about wanting her, and the song's title becomes his highest compliment, comparing how good she makes him feel to the best music there is.

The verses lean into confident, boastful bravado typical of Feid's style: he hands out money on the street, people look for him, he calls himself a magician. That swagger sits alongside the softer, romantic hook, which repeats and loops through the second half of the song. Underneath the bragging, it's a simple love-and-attraction song, with the hook line "you're listening to the best music" tying the romance and the music together as one and the same thing.

Normal captures a bittersweet tug-of-war between pride and lingering desire. Feid paints himself as the partner who gave “cien” while receiving only “cincuenta,” yet he still dreams about the girl who traded his bed for someone else’s. The chorus flips the script: when she feels lonely in the club every weekend and his name slips out, that regret is simply “normal.” Through sharp contrasts—luxury brands she no longer wants, late-night phone calls fueled by alcohol, and his own rebound flaunting—Feid shows how both lovers mask heartbreak with parties, money, and bravado.

Under the pulsating reggaeton beat, the song becomes a confident anthem of self-worth. Feid admits the hurt, but he also celebrates moving on, scoring “goals” in every “match,” and challenging his ex to feel the same sting. It is a relatable snapshot of modern breakups in Latin nightlife: flashy on the outside, messy and human underneath.

Picture a midnight voice note that crackles with longing. In “RU MOR”, Colombian artist Feid reaches out to a girl he has not seen in a while and vents about the distance that separates them. Gossip is flying (“ru mor” = rumor) and her family is not impressed by his flashy chains, tattoos, or the rough-edged friends who ride with him. Feid pushes back with swagger: he has cars, motorcycles, money from “el Baloto”, and even a plan to move her mom to a better neighborhood. Under the bravado, though, you hear a genuine ache. He tells her no one will ever touch her like he does, promises he bears no grudge against her dad, and vows to keep her safe from anyone who talks trash.

The song is a bad-boy love anthem where romance, street credibility, and family disapproval collide. Feid invites his girl to sneak out, throw on a miniskirt, hop in his car, and dance until sunrise. Every boast and threat is really a plea: ignore the rumors, trust the connection, and let’s escape together for one unforgettable night.

“BUBALU” is a sun-kissed love letter where Colombian hitmaker Feid and Nigerian star Rema confess that every party, beach trip, and late-night adventure loses its sparkle without one special woman. The chorus’ playful slang – “Dulcecita flow Trululu, cremita de coconut” – paints her as a sweet tropical treat, while “Bubbaloo” (a chewy Latin-American gum) becomes a cheeky nickname for the irresistible pull of her body and vibe. From jet-ski rides in Montego Bay to flirty hotel rooms in Benidorm, the song hops across dreamy vacation spots, mixing Spanish, English, and Nigerian Pidgin to celebrate a cross-cultural romance that feels both global and intensely personal.

Beneath the laid-back reggaeton-meets-Afrobeats groove, the message is simple: nothing tastes as good, sounds as good, or feels as good without her. Feid zooms in on her photos when they are apart, convinced she must have cast a little vudú on him; Rema promises to stay loyal if she ever considers someone else. “BUBALU” is sweet, sensual, and slightly nostalgic – the musical equivalent of blowing a bright-pink bubble on a warm Caribbean night and wishing the moment could stretch forever.