Learn Spanish With Feid with these 23 Song Recommendations (Full Translations Included!)
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.
“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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
Feid’s “DESQUITE” drops us into the neon-lit chaos of Colombia’s weekend nightlife, where two partners in crime chase thrills rather than consequences. The narrator hooks up with a girl who already has a boyfriend, yet she keeps slipping away from her routine to meet him. Every Friday they look for hangeo (party action), showing up at any hour, phone on silent, willing to do whatever it takes to “steal” a moment together. Their chemistry is magnetic and risky, and that danger is exactly what fuels the excitement.
Beyond the pulsating beat, the song paints a picture of double lives and secret identities. On social media she plays innocent, but with him she unleashes her “powers,” forgetting rules, responsibilities, and even time itself—they link up “de martes a martes” (from Tuesday to Tuesday). Feid celebrates this rebellious energy, portraying both lovers as modern gángsters who refuse to follow society’s script. “DESQUITE” is ultimately about getting even with boredom, routine, and expectations, all while dancing through the night with unapologetic passion.
Feid's "PIDA LO QUE QUIERA MAMI" is a playful yet heartfelt declaration of devotion. Over a laid-back reggaeton beat, the Colombian star tells his girl she can ask for whatever she wants because she earned it. He remembers the days when he had nothing and she still believed in him, so now that the checks are rolling in he is eager to spoil her: closing restaurants, handing over his salary, credit cards - anything to see her smile. Their chemistry is obvious; every time she bites her lips or stands by his side, he feels himself grow more confident and successful.
Beyond the flashy gifts, the song is really a thank-you note. Feid stresses that their bond is rooted in loyalty, gratitude and faith - he even prayed nightly for someone like her. He urges them not to fight over silly things, promising to give her what she deserves and shielding their love from envious onlookers. It is a celebration of a ride-or-die romance where past struggles fuel present passion.
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.
ESQUIRLA paints the picture of a fearless woman who has turned heartbreak into high-voltage energy. Her ex left a “shrapnel” in her heart, yet instead of visiting a doctor or sinking into sorrow, she prescribes herself perreo, loud music, and shots with her friends. Each sweaty night on the dance floor erases another scar, trading pain for rhythm and neon lights.
Feid follows her as she upgrades her life from monotony to jet-setting selfies in New York, Milan, and Paris. The chorus reminds us that the wound was deep, but the real story is her self-repair: she’s not waiting for anyone to fix her. With booming reggaetón beats, the song becomes a celebration of resilience, confidence, and the liberating power of dancing until dawn.
“I MIXX U” feels like scrolling through a spicy chat thread at 3 a.m. Feid paints the picture of a long-distance situationship where affection, jealousy, and playful teasing fly back and forth as quickly as TikTok clips and cat memes. She claims she doesn’t want anything serious, yet she leaves her jeans at his place, blows up when he leaves her on read, and fires flirty videos from Dubai while dreaming of Medellín. Feid, for his part, confesses he is totally hooked: on her kisses, her tropical beauty, and the thrill that comes with never quite knowing where they stand.
The lyrics capture modern love in the social-media era—half Spanish, half English, all emotion. Between Spanglish lines and Colombian slang, Feid shows how mixed signals can be irresistibly addictive. One minute they are trading memes, the next they are planning late-night gym dates or replaying wild party footage. Underneath the humor and sensual wordplay lies a simple truth: no matter the distance or the drama, both keep coming back for another round of digital flirting and real-world chemistry.
“DALLAX” is a late-night phone call turned into a song. Feid, repping Medellín, and Ty Dolla $ign, phoning in from the U.S., trade verses that drip with nostalgia and desire. The story is simple yet relatable: two ex-lovers drifted apart when she flew to Dallas and he stayed in Colombia, but distance only amplifies the memories. Now both artists spark up, reminisce, and wonder if it is too late to reclaim that electric chemistry they once owned.
Behind the bilingual wordplay and sensual swagger lies an honest confession of mistakes, jealousy, and hope. Feid owns up to his faults, Ty Dolla $ign begs her not to “give his love away,” and together they paint a picture of lovers caught between regret and irresistible attraction. It is a long-distance love anthem that blends reggaeton warmth with R&B smoothness, reminding listeners that sometimes the hardest part of letting go is realizing you still feel the fire.
Feid’s “La Rebuena Mi Fai” feels like an audio diary written at full volume. Across hard-hitting verses he calls out gossip blogs, fake friends, and anyone who tries to claim credit for his success. Instead, he salutes the people who actually matter: his mom, dad, sister, and a tight crew of real friends. The song paints the picture of a kid from Medellín who spent endless nights in the studio, hustling for one chance to record, and who now refuses to let opportunists pull up a chair at his table.
Behind the fierce language sits a clear message. Feid reminds listeners that fame never “falls from the sky”; it is earned through sacrifice, sleepless sessions, and an unwavering belief in yourself. He thanks the critics for the fuel they unknowingly gave him, then delivers a promise: he will not slow down, not even a little. The result is both a fiery anthem of self-defense and a motivational soundtrack for anyone grinding toward a dream.
FRIKI drops you straight into a neon-lit night in Medellín, where Colombian stars Feid and Karol G turn up the reggaetón heat. The lyrics paint a picture of rolling through the city in a maquinón (a flashy car), ordering endless bottles, and sparking up krippy (high-grade weed) while a tight-knit crew of friends takes over the dance floor. It is a celebration of living in the moment: loud beats, bold moves, and zero concern for anyone’s judgment.
Beneath the party glow lies a message of confidence and carefree freedom. The women in the song own the night—they choose where to go, what to drink, and how to dance, turning every club table into their stage. Slang like perrear (grinding dance) and qué chimba (how awesome) adds local flavor, while the repeated “el reggaetón la pone freaky” reminds us that the rhythm itself unlocks their wild side. In short, FRIKI is a pulsating invite to forget the rules, feel the bass, and let your inner freaky dancer take over.
Heartbreak meets barrio bravado. In “REMIX EXCLUSIVO,” Colombian star Feid tells the story of a guy who pretends to be lost in endless parties yet secretly scrolls his phone looking for the ex he still calls mía. Even surrounded by flashing lights, VIP tables and a lineup of admirers, he can’t shake the jealousy of imagining her with someone else. The lyrics swing between tender memories of her Chanel scent and raw boasts about owning the streets, capturing that tug-of-war between vulnerability and macho pride.
A night out as a coping strategy. Over a pounding reggaetón beat, the narrator speeds off in his nave (fancy ride), splurges on bottles and invites the ex to join the chaos, hoping the neon glow will outshine the pain. The song blends swagger, desire and lingering love: he claims the party, the city and even her safety, all while admitting that not even Percocet calms his thoughts. “REMIX EXCLUSIVO” is both a club anthem and a confession that sometimes the loudest nights echo the deepest feelings.
Feid and Mañas Ru-Fino drop us into the after-party rush at 3 a.m., where the beat is low, the lights are hazy, and chemistry is off the charts. “La Vuelta” is a bold, flirtatious anthem that follows a pair of longtime crushes finally giving in to their attraction. Feid plays the confident lover who promises unforgettable thrills—reminding the girl that if her current guy slips up, one call is all it takes for him to swoop in. Between shots of tequila, high-energy dancing, and playful boasts, the lyrics paint a vivid picture of two people who have circled each other since school days and are now ready to seal the deal.
The title la vuelta is Colombian slang for “pulling off the move,” and that is exactly what unfolds: a daring late-night hookup powered by swagger, steamy compliments, and irresistible rhythm. At its core, the song celebrates seizing the moment, pushing aside rivals, and indulging in a night that both lovers know they won’t forget.
De Negro is Feid’s invitation to drop the poker face, slip into an all-black outfit and dive head-first into a night where anything can happen. Backed by Yandel’s unmistakable Puerto Rican flow, the Colombian star paints the picture of a smoky VIP lounge: flashing lights, tall drinks, loud bass. He spots someone who looks too serious, almost hiding behind a “good-girl” mask, and spends the song coaxing her to loosen up—promising that once the refills hit and the kush is lit, both of them will end up on the same wavelength.
Beneath the party talk, the lyrics flirt with a playful duality. Feid admires how she balances innocence with street-smart swagger, calling her “calle” yet “ghetto,” and teasing that tonight there will be an “entierro” (a burial) for all that stiffness when they finally surrender to the rhythm. It is an anthem for nightlife chemistry: dress in black, leave worries at the door, and let music, smoke and desire bury any trace of seriousness until the sun comes up.
Heartbreak meets urban nightlife in Feid’s “Si Te La Encuentras Por Ahí.” Over a laid-back reggaetón beat, the Colombian singer paints the picture of a man who cannot move on from an ex-lover. He begs anyone who might bump into her to pass along a message: “She’s still got me messed up.” Rumor has it she was seen crying at a party, and the narrator’s curiosity turns into desperation. He wonders if she still thinks about him, stressing that she has not made one of those late-night, tipsy phone calls that once let him know she cared.
Beneath the catchy flow you will find a mix of regret, longing, and raw vulnerability. Feid admits his faults — “sé que soy un cabrón” — yet he is ready to cross cities, ride motorbikes, and swallow his pride just to reconnect. The song becomes a confessional shout-out to lost love inside a crowded club, turning a personal plea into an anthem for anyone who has ever hoped their ex still feels the same. Listen closely and you will hear more than a dance track — you will hear a heart on speakerphone.
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.
X19X captures the thrill of a fiery, no-strings-attached fling that blurs the line between impulse and emotion. Feid paints the picture of two people whose chemistry is instant: they skip the small talk, jump straight into passion, and light up the night (literally and figuratively) with music, smoke, and luxury rides. He’s keenly aware that their connection might be short-lived, yet every moment feels electric and worth remembering—enough for him to replay it in his mind even while seeing other people.
Beneath the swagger and sensual wordplay, the song hints at a tug-of-war between freedom and attachment. Both lovers know this affair isn’t “para toda la vida,” but the memories are addictive and hard to shake. Feid acknowledges the honesty of their arrangement: no commitments, just intense encounters whenever the spark strikes. In singing about fleeting intimacy and recurring desire, he turns a casual hookup into a magnetic, bittersweet anthem for anyone who’s ever lived in the moment and wondered why it lingers so long afterward.
“KELOIDE” is Feid’s lyrical way of pointing at the emotional scars that love can leave behind. A queloide (keloid) is a scar that keeps growing instead of fading, and in this song the Colombian artist compares that stubborn mark to a relationship he just can’t heal from. He brags, sulks, flirts and confesses all at once: he pushed his girl away, yet he came running back; he pretends he’s fine, but every memory reopens the wound. Between the playful Spanglish lines and street-smart swagger, Feid admits that missing her is “teso” (really tough) and that the cold seeps “to his bones.” The chorus drives it home – he cursed her out, left, then returned only to feel the same sting, proving those keloid-like feelings are still raw.
Under the catchy reggaetón beat, you hear a tug-of-war between pride and vulnerability. He flexes about “la chimba más chimba del building” and their former “Dream Team” status, yet quickly pleads, “Mami, don’t worry… I’ll do anything for you.” The track captures modern love’s contradictions: public confidence vs. private longing, toxic cycles vs. genuine attachment, and the struggle to move on when the heart insists on staying. In short, “KELOIDE” is a dance-floor confession that even the coolest scars can still hurt – and sometimes we keep scratching them ourselves.
Picture a warm Colombian night, the ocean glittering nearby, and a hypnotic reggaetón beat pulling everyone to the dance floor. In “No Digas Na,” Feid and Puerto Rican legend Yandel invite a mysterious crush to forget the small talk and dive straight into the moment. The chorus is a playful command: don’t say “I love you,” just let your hair down, feel the breeze, and let the music speak for you. The verses paint flashes of late-night partying, stolen glances, and irresistible chemistry, where every move brings the pair closer to an unforgettable rendezvous.
At its core, the song is a celebration of spontaneous passion and freedom. Feid and Yandel urge listeners to leave labels, promises, and social media declarations at the door. Instead, they chase pure sensation—dancing, flirting, and living in the now. It’s a lyrical postcard from the tropics that reminds learners of Spanish slang, urban nightlife, and the universal thrill of attraction without strings attached. So press play, loosen up, and let the rhythm do all the talking. 🎶