“Ya Supérame” is the ultimate breakup anthem of self-respect. From the very first question, “¿Qué parte no entiendes cuando te digo que no?”, the singer draws a firm boundary: the relationship is over, the ex is blocked everywhere, and there is no sequel. The repeated command “¡Ya, supérame!” (Get over me already) flips the usual heartbreak script; instead of pleading, the narrator celebrates newfound freedom, letting the ex know that their manipulation and gossip no longer have power.
Wrapped in the bold brass and accordion sound of Regional Mexican music, the lyrics deliver a mix of attitude and empowerment. The message is crystal clear: move on, accept defeat, and stop bad-mouthing me while you are at it. It is a catchy reminder that healing sometimes means closing the door completely, changing the “heart’s lock,” and dancing away happier than ever.
Ya Supérame (En Vivo) is Grupo Firme’s unapologetic breakup anthem that turns the pain of a past relationship into a triumphant fiesta. With a catchy norteño beat and the powerhouse vocals of Eduin Caz, the song fires off a clear message: “I’m happier without you, so do yourself a favor and move on.” From the very first lines, the singer spells it out like an exam question — “Which part of ‘no’ don’t you get, the N or the O?” — and the blunt honesty only gets sharper from there.
Across the chorus, he lists the evidence of his fresh start: blocks on every platform, a brand-new heart, and a life that feels lighter without the ex’s drama. Instead of lamenting lost love, the lyrics celebrate self-respect and emotional freedom. The takeaway is bold and simple: acknowledge the breakup, stop the gossip, accept defeat gracefully, and let both sides dance into their next chapter.
Grupo Firme teams up with the legendary Los Tucanes de Tijuana to deliver a high-energy regional Mexican anthem bursting with brass, accordion, and that unmistakable Sinaloan swagger. "Secuestro De Amor" paints a cinematic scene: the narrator is so captivated by a love interest that he dreams up a bold, almost outlaw-style plan to hold her close. Think of it as a banda-infused telenovela moment where passion reaches such extremes that ordinary flirting just will not do.
Behind the lively shout-outs and foot-stomping rhythms lies a dramatic storyline. The singer’s heart is racing, asking why it cannot be with the person it desires, so he imagines a “love kidnapping” to steal a private moment together. It is an over-the-top metaphor often found in regional Mexican lyrics: exaggerated declarations that highlight just how intense, urgent, and even reckless an infatuation can feel. While the words describe tying hands and dimly lit bedrooms, the real message is the raw force of desire and the lengths someone might fantasize about for love. Enjoy the beat, note the theatrical flair, and remember that in música regional, passion is usually dialed up to the max!
“El Beneficio De La Duda” invites us straight into an honest heart-to-heart. The singer knows his ex is probably over it, yet he can’t help but wonder if she’ll think of him for even a split second. When that moment comes, he wants her to remember that he is also thinking of her. The lyrics roll out a confession of mistakes, bruised pride, and one humble request: give me the benefit of the doubt. Beneath the lively banda arrangement, we hear a man admitting he does not deserve instant forgiveness, but he is ready to work for it.
At its core, the song is a plea to stop “suffering over dumb things,” turn the page together, and avoid the exhausting search for “other bodies, other mouths.” Grupo Firme wraps this message in an upbeat melody that makes the vulnerability feel both relatable and hopeful. It’s a reminder that sometimes the bravest move in love is simply asking for a second chance—promising your partner they will not regret granting it.
El Tóxico turns heartbreak into a fiery ranchera drama.
In this anthem of wounded pride, Grupo Firme and Carin León flip the usual breakup script. Instead of begging for a second chance, the singer vows to become the ex from your worst nightmares. He once gave everything—his love, his life, even “a thousand reasons” to stay—but after being left without explanation, he promises payback. From poisoning the dog to haunting every memory, he plans to be an inescapable reminder of regret. Beneath the playful exaggeration and colorful insults lies a familiar feeling: when love turns sour, anger can feel like the only way to keep the hurt from winning. The song mixes humor, swagger, and raw emotion, showing that in Regional Mexican music, even revenge can come with an infectious beat.
Calidad is a swagger-packed anthem where Grupo Firme and Luis Mexia flip the usual breakup story. Instead of heartbreak, the singer throws out a playful warning: don’t even bother auditioning new lovers. He’s certain the affection he offered was “premium grade,” stamped with his personal seal of quality, and no one else will ever reach that bar. Every smile they shared and every kiss he left behind proves that lightning won’t strike twice.
Rather than cursing his ex, he simply presents a bit of “quality control” reality: he set the highest standard. The chorus repeats this confidence, declaring that he was, is, and will always be the best chapter in her life. Time may pass, yet the mark of his love remains permanent. In short, Calidad turns post-breakup doubt into a lively declaration of lasting value, all wrapped in the group’s signature norteño and banda energy.
Spoiler alert: this love story is a non-starter. From the first line, the narrator in "Aquí No Es" throws up a giant neon warning sign: he is unstable, unapologetically tough, and carries a track record of failed romances. Rather than sugar-coat his flaws, he lists them like a menu no one should order from. He breaks plates, cheats, bans love, and even ranks himself on a “different level” of bad behavior. The message? If you stay, be ready to lose, because genuine affection does not live here.
What makes the song fun is its shameless honesty and swagger. Grupo Firme blends regional Mexican swagger with a modern, almost conversational confession, turning toxicity into a bold anthem of self-awareness. The upbeat brass and catchy chorus invite you to sing along while the lyrics remind you not to fall for someone who admits he has nothing real to give. It is a playful, cautionary tale that says: enter at your own risk.
Tronando Ligas bursts open like a packed roll of cash, celebrating the climb from humble hustle to headline luxury. Grupo Firme and Junior H trade verses that toast hard-earned success: long nights of work, dodging envy, and keeping every account straight. When they brag about tronar las ligas (literally “snapping the rubber bands” that hold stacks of money), they are really flaunting the payoff of sweat-soaked determination. Champagne showers at a hotel pool, red-soled shoes, and quick trips to Las Vegas paint a picture of triumph, but the song never lets you forget the roots—gratitude to family and the grind that made it all possible.
Wrapped in lively accordion riffs and shouted ad-libs, this modern corrido invites listeners to celebrate victories without apology. It is a reminder that behind every flashy party photo lies a backstory of perseverance, loyalty to friends (mi carnal), and pride in never owing a cent. Press play, feel the beat, and let the rubber bands snap right along with the rhythm!
Descuide (En Vivo) turns a lively banda performance into a confession booth. Over swelling tubas and bright trumpets, the singer remembers a partner who gave everything: affection, attention, and unwavering concern. Life felt complete until carelessness crept in. The flowers stopped, compliments faded, and what once was cherished became routine. Each verse stacks new evidence of neglect, showing how tiny oversights can snowball into heartbreak.
When the chorus hits, regret pours out. The singer realizes too late that ignoring the “little things” slowly emptied the relationship of its magic. Now the love that once felt invincible is gone, and the upbeat melody hides a desperate cry: “I am dying for you.” Grupo Firme captures the universal lesson that love needs daily maintenance, and if you let it slide, even the most vibrant fiesta can end in silence.
“Gracias (En Vivo)” is a lively shout-out to success, camaraderie and unapologetic self-confidence. Over brassy norteño-banda rhythms, Grupo Firme and Grupo Codiciado fire back at gossipers, flaunting their trips to Paris, glittering jewelry and growing fortune. Instead of anger, they send a cheeky gracias to everyone who doubts or criticizes them, turning negativity into fuel for celebration. The chorus of place names, friends’ shout-outs and record-label tags creates the feel of a packed concert where every corner of Mexico is proudly represented.
Beneath the swagger lies a simple message: enjoy life, stay loyal and keep moving forward. The singers refuse to compete with former peers or pause their rise just to please detractors. They honor real friends who know the truth behind the headlines, while brushing off “la gente tonta” who can’t stand their joy. In the end, the track is both a thank-you note and a victory lap, inviting listeners to raise a glass, ignore the haters and dance along to their unstoppable momentum.
Ramón Arellano is a modern corrido that feels like a short action movie set to music. Grupo Firme and Los Tucanes de Tijuana paint a larger-than-life portrait of Ramón “El Colores” Arellano, a feared figure from Sinaloa who built a 20-year reputation on courage, violence, and strict loyalty. The lyrics describe his arsenal—rifle on his shoulder, pistol at his hip, hand grenades ready—while celebrating the cold confidence that made rivals tremble. Listeners hear about his love for norteño music, women, and fast gunplay, as well as how he settled scores “Italian-style,” hinting at mafia methods along the Mexican-U.S. border.
Musically, the upbeat horns and guitars invite you to dance, but the story underneath is a cautionary tale of power, respect, and the high price of living by the gun. By the end, the song leaves you impressed by Ramón’s fearlessness yet aware of the dark world he ruled—a hallmark of the narcocorrido tradition that mixes thrilling bravado with stark reality.
Ever had an ex show up with a bouquet, a full banda outside your window, and the stubborn certainty that you still miss them? “Qué Onda Perdida” captures that exact moment. Grupo Firme and Gerardo Coronel slip into the role of a bold former lover who refuses to take silence—or WhatsApp’s “online” status—as a goodbye. With cheeky lines, playful bravado, and brass-fueled banda energy, the singer declares: "I’m back, I still love you, and I’m parking my tuba on your lawn until you face me." The song overflows with Mexican serenade tradition, turning heartbreak into a festive showdown.
Beneath the swagger sits a tender truth: we often circle back to places where we once felt loved. Flowers, nostalgia, and a dash of tequila courage mix with the hope of a fresh start. Will she admit she misses him, or has someone else already stolen her pillow? That tension keeps the lyrics fun and relatable, making the track a sing-out-loud anthem for anyone who’s ever wondered if love deserves one more shot.
Tú is a full-throttle love declaration where every trumpet blast and shout of “¡Arriba México!” amplifies one simple truth: the singer’s world begins and ends with one person – you. From craving a “dosis diaria” of her sweet hair to feeling lost when their eyes don’t meet, the lyrics paint an almost addictive devotion. The song invites the listener to look in the mirror and recognize the beauty that makes them someone’s entire universe, turning insecurity into confidence through pure, unabashed praise.
At the same time, Grupo Firme and Los Elegantes de Jerez transform this heartfelt confession into a lively cantina party. Between cheers for Aguascalientes, playful banter, and reminders that “la música es para compartir,” the track becomes a communal sing-along celebrating love, friendship, and Mexican pride. It’s a song to belt out with friends while clinking glasses, all while secretly dedicating every line to the one who makes your heart race.
Recorded live, Tú (En Vivo) bursts with the collective energy of Grupo Firme and Los Elegantes de Jerez. Between trumpet blasts, accordion swells, and crowd shout-outs of 'Arriba México', the track feels like a midnight serenata in a packed plaza where friends pass the mic, toast to Aguascalientes, and remind everyone that music is for sharing, not competing.
Beneath the fiesta glow beats a heartfelt confession of love. The singer cannot breathe if he is not looking at her, needs a daily dose of her hair's sweetness, and calls her his entire universe. He met her de la nada, yet now every verse, kiss, and heartbeat belongs to her alone. The message is crystal clear: Tú, solamente tú; nobody else matters when real love takes the stage.
Grab your boots and raise your glass—Grupo Firme’s live hit “El Amor No Fue Pa’ Mi” is a rowdy confession straight from the cantina. The singer is cornered by friends asking about his failed romance; with a playful shrug he blames "broncas con Cupido" and declares that love just isn’t his thing. Instead, he pledges allegiance to pisto (booze) and corridos, using every heartbreak as the perfect excuse to keep the bottles flowing.
Behind the tequila–soaked humor, the track hides a bittersweet truth: he is "jodido pero contento"—hurt yet happy—choosing celebration over sorrow. The live banda arrangement turns pain into a communal party, inviting listeners to shout “¡Salud!” while learning that sometimes the best way to mend a broken heart is to sing louder, laugh harder, and dance right through the tears.
Y Soporta cranks the heartbreak dial all the way to sass. In this brassy banda-pop tune, Grupo Firme and Nathan Galante flip the usual tear-soaked breakup script. The singer is done mourning and has moved on with swagger to spare. His message to the ex: “Deal with it!”
Each verse serves a spicy update on his new life: someone else is kissing him, her body no longer tempts him, and she will not be the mother of his kids. The repeated hook “y soporta” – meaning “so put up with it” – drives home his gleeful farewell while the trumpets blare in celebration of fresh beginnings. It is a sing-along anthem for anyone ready to trade sorrow for confidence, lace up their boots, and march forward with a grin.
“Y Ahora” plunges us right into the raw aftermath of a breakup. Grupo Firme teams up with 6ix9ine to paint the picture of a lovesick narrator who wakes up missing every cariñito, sending texts that never get answered, and replaying memories while the silence on the other end grows louder. The upbeat banda arrangement might make you sway, yet the lyrics confess a heart split in two: he is drinking with friends, but every sip reminds him that she is out there “gozándote la vida.” The chorus is a desperate question — “Y ahora, ¿qué hago?” — capturing that universal panic when forgetting someone feels impossible and the phone stays stubbornly quiet.
At the same time, the song turns heartbreak into resilience. Realizing he has to guard his feelings “el doble,” the singer acknowledges the wound, admits he is “jodido,” then vows to protect what is left of his heart. 6ix9ine’s cameo adds a playful edge, fusing regional Mexican flair with urban bravado, and together they remind us that love can knock you flat but music – and maybe one more round with your compas – can help you stand back up.