Learn Spanish With Kali Uchis with these 15 Song Recommendations (Full Translations Included!)

"Te Mata" opens with an interviewer asking what Kali Uchis would say to anyone who doubted she would make it this far. Her response sets the mood immediately: "A mí me gusta que vean lo feliz que soy sin ellos" [I like that they see how happy I am without them]. What follows is a dramatic breakup track where she confronts an ex who treated her badly, recalling how their actions "dolían como balas" [hurt like bullets] while she silently cried herself to sleep. Instead of staying broken, she grew her own wings to fly away, and now she fully embraces being the villain in her ex's narrative. As she puts it, "Si eso me hace mala, pues diabla es lo que soy" [If that makes me bad, then a devil is what I am].

What makes this track hit so hard is the petty satisfaction running through every line. The phrase "eso te mata" translates literally to "that kills you," but in everyday Spanish, it means something is driving someone crazy with jealousy or frustration. Kali knows that seeing her thrive with someone new who actually makes her laugh is what hurts her ex the most. She sings "mis días ya no son gris" [my days are no longer gray], drawing a clean line between the misery she tolerated in the past and the freedom she refuses to give up now.

Kali Uchis and Peso Pluma team up on this smooth R&B track to celebrate someone so pure and untouchable they feel celestial. While everyone else chases money and fame with "un amor superficial" [a superficial love], this girl only wants "calma, no dañar su alma" [calm, not to hurt her soul]. The lyrics say people made big promises and broke her heart ("le rompieron el cora'"), leaving her with dry eyes from all the crying. Even so, she keeps smiling. She simply lives on a higher plane where bad energy cannot touch her: "Heaven's her residence, y ella no se va a caer" [and she is not going to fall].

What makes the song fun is how playful the praise gets. Instead of wallowing in heartbreak, the singers crown her "la favorita de Dios" [God's favorite] and treat her like a rare prize that regular people cannot afford. The slang adds real flavor here, like shortening corazón [heart] to "cora'" or calling an out-of-reach woman a "princesita inalcanzable". In fact, Peso Pluma basically tells anyone hoping to date her that they better start praying: "El que la quiera, que rece" [Whoever wants her, let them pray]. She is light, she is an angel, and she knows it.

Kali Uchis blends English and Spanish in "Solita" to talk about walking away from someone toxic and choosing your own company. She kicks things off with sharp insults in Spanish, comparing her ex to a "serpiente venenosa" [venomous snake] and a "calle rota" [broken street]. Seeing him with someone else hurt like a rose thorn, but she knows staying means letting him keep "rubbin' salt into all my open wounds." That English idiom describes making an already painful situation much worse, and she is totally done with it.

Instead of wallowing, she heads to the dance floor by herself. The chorus repeats "Bailando aquí sola / Como a mí me gusta" [Dancing here alone / Just how I like it], celebrating the freedom of doing things on her own terms. When someone nearby smells her ex's cologne and asks why she is unaccompanied, her answer is crystal clear: "Es mejor que con el diablo" [It is better than being with the devil]. Being alone might mean facing some personal demons, but it beats staying with someone who treats you like poison.

Ever missed someone so much that your brain tries to bridge the physical gap on its own? That is the exact mood Colombian-American singer Kali Uchis rides in "Telepatía." Stuck in bed staring at a full moon ("La luna está llena, mi cama vacía" [The moon is full, my bed is empty]), she leans into a dreamy fantasy of long-distance intimacy. Even though miles separate the lovers, she claims they connect across the distance without physical touch ("A kilómetros estamos conectando / Y me prendes aunque no me estés tocando" [Miles away we are connecting / And you turn me on even though you aren't touching me]).

Kali drifts between English and Spanish to describe reading her partner's thoughts like an open book. She hears their thoughts like a tune and claims they stay on the line just to listen to her sleep ("You stay on the phone just to hear me breathe / On repeat"). She boldly boasts about how wild things would get in person: "Si te tuviera de frente, la mente te la volaría" (If I had you in front of me, I would blow your mind). In Spanish, "volar la mente" works just like the English idiom "to blow someone's mind," promising an experience so intense it overwhelms you. It is a smooth, slightly cheeky track about letting your imagination do the heavy lifting when a flight is the only thing keeping you apart.

Kali Uchis gives you pure, smooth confidence in "NO HAY LEY", making it clear that other people's opinions mean nothing when the chemistry is right. She opens by waking up with her partner on her mind, admitting she felt their tongues touching, before immediately brushing off the critics. People around her judge the romance and say she is crazy, but she shuts them down with "Dicen que no es normal / Pero me da igual" ("They say it's not normal / But I don't care"). To her, gossip is just background noise. She literally tunes out the world with "All I hear is la-da-di-da-da-do", choosing physical affection over drama.

The core message lives in the title line: "en el amor no hay ley" ("in love, there is no law"). That phrase means real attraction makes its own rules regardless of outside judgment. Kali mixes Spanish and English effortlessly, moving from flirtatious demands like "besos en la espalda" ("kisses on the back") and asking to take off her mini skirt, to declaring herself a "high class lover, in the covers". She knows what she brings to the table, boldly reminding her partner that only she can do "cosas mágicas" ("magical things"). It is a fun, defiant track about kissing whoever you want, whenever you want, and letting everyone else stare.

Fue Mejor is a smooth, bilingual R&B track where Kali Uchis and SZA walk away from toxic partners and refuse to look back. Kali opens by shrugging off both material clutter and an ex who never truly understood her with "Tú no me conoces" ("You don't know me"). Instead of sticking around to crash, she decides that "Fue mejor volar para no caerme" ("It was better to fly so I wouldn't fall"). She knows her worth now, throwing out the blunt truth that her ex is currently with someone else doing things "Que en mi cama te enseñé" ("That I taught you in my bed").

The central punch of the track comes from the lyric "Hay cosas que se tatúan sin tinta" ("There are things that are tattooed without ink"). It is a memorable way to say that some memories leave a permanent mark without any physical trace. SZA jumps in to match that energy, calling out the mind games with "Te hace sentir bueno cuando me tratas tan mal" ("It makes you feel good when you treat me so bad"). Leaving in a Jeep at midnight might hurt, but finding freedom is worth the ride.

This song is the ultimate breakup anthem for when you know you've made the right decision, even if it still hurts a little. Kali Uchis is telling her ex, in no uncertain terms, that it's over. She's almost taunting them, singing, "Me perdiste / Baby, qué triste / Tiene que doler" (You lost me / Baby, how sad / It has to hurt). She imagines them waking up alone, trying and failing to replace her, and makes it clear she's not picking up the phone if they call.

What makes the song so good is that she admits it's not easy. She acknowledges they had a real connection, saying, "You know that I got a soft spot / For you" and that "Nobody can push my buttons / Like you". She even confesses, "A veces sí me da pesar" (Sometimes I do feel regret). But despite that lingering feeling, she's standing firm. The final word is "No voy a volver / Pa nada y nunca, baby, ya me perdiste" (I'm not coming back / For anything and never, baby, you've already lost me). It's a powerful declaration of choosing yourself, even when a part of you misses what you're leaving behind.

If someone ever invents a fake romance with you just to get clout, Kali Uchis wrote the exact antidote. In this bilingual R&B track, she confronts an ex or a wannabe who tells lies about their past: ¿Qué haces diciéndole a la gente / Que tuvimos relación, cuando eso no pasó? ("What are you doing telling people we had a relationship, when that didn't happen?"). Kali tells them their memory is "wonky"—which is a fun, casual English word for unreliable or crooked—because the real truth is simply bruised pride. She knows why they are mad: she never gave them attention, and now she is thriving while they run their mouth.

Her response is totally unbothered and deliciously blunt. She repeatedly asks ¿Hasta cuándo tú vas a hablar de mí? ("Until when are you going to talk about me?") before reminding them that she doesn't even remember them anymore. When people can't stop gossiping, Kali just shrugs and tells them to "paint me as the villain if that makes you feel better." It is hilarious, petty, and wildly confident, especially at the end when she signs off with a breezy despertando envidias como siempre, querida ("waking up envy as always, darling") and tells everyone to leave the old drama in the past.

“No Eres Tú (Soy Yo)” finds Kali Uchis spinning the classic breakup cliché into a confident power move. She tells a potential partner that the danger lies not in them but in her: she can sweep someone off their feet, make them vicio-level addicted, then leave them waiting for the impossible — like snow in spring. The repeated hook “No eres tú, soy yo” flips from an apologetic excuse into a fearless declaration of self-prioritization.

Over a sultry bilingual groove, Kali paints herself as a tempting yet untouchable heartbreaker: no commitments, no refunds, and no fairy-tale endings. She warns that her love is thrilling but fictitious, positioning independence and self-awareness above romance. Ultimately, the song celebrates agency and the freedom to set your own terms, all while dripping with Uchis’s trademark blend of Colombian-American swagger.

Kali Uchis blends English and Spanish into a smooth, late-night confession about choosing passion over peace of mind. Right from the start, she admits people warn her that this romance is bad news: "Dicen que no me conviene to fall in love with you" [They say it is not good for me to fall in love with you]. But honestly? She does not care. She points out that outsiders will never match her devotion with "Como te quiero yo" [How I love you]. For her, walking away is out of the question because "It's too late to close that door" and "Sin ti no puedo estar" [Without you I cannot be].

Relationships get messy, and she embraces that reality with the classic romantic drama line "Si no hay drama no hay amor" [If there is no drama, there is no love]. Still, she is tired of the actual fighting. Instead of arguing until sunrise, she proposes a much simpler fix: "Ya no quiero más problemas / Te quiero en la cama y sin más complicación" [I don't want any more problems / I want you in bed without any more complication]. Because "Tomorrow may never come," she cuts through the everyday bickering to focus on what she really wants—holding onto the person she loves, unconditionally, all night long.

"Muévelo" is Kali Uchis telling a heartbroken friend to stop crying alone in her room and come dance instead. The song opens gently, coaxing her out the door, then turns into a confident, playful chorus about moving her body and shutting down anyone ("un asqueroso," a creep) who tries to bother her on the dance floor.

The verses mix Spanish and English, a style Kali Uchis is known for, and the message stays simple throughout: heartbreak passes, and dancing is how you get your power back. She even name-drops Shakira while telling her friend to move her hips like nobody's watching.

By the end, "Muévelo" isn't really about one bad relationship. It's an anthem for shaking off a rough night and reminding yourself you're still that girl.

Kali Uchis opens this one with a dare. "¿Y tú que pensaste? ¿Que yo me iba echar a morir?" [What'd you think? That I'd just curl up and die?] she asks, then answers herself: "La venganza es dulce, ¿sabes?" [Revenge is sweet, you know?]. It's a kiss-off delivered soft and slow, the kind of line that lands harder because she never raises her voice.

Then the song turns, and the bitterness gives way to something gentler: the moon itself falls in love. "Vive la luna enamorada" [The love-struck moon lives], she sings, watching it hang over the night the way a new feeling changes how everything else looks. Fascination, a little wonder at her own dreaming, and the sense that whatever this is now lives in the person in front of her, not the one she left behind.

Kali Uchis and KAROL G team up for a sultry, slow-burning track all about intense chemistry, late-night flirting, and undeniable attraction on the dance floor. Right from the start, they bring lethal confidence, calling the girl a killer with a style to match: “Tremenda asesina con un flow para matar” ("Tremendous killer with a flow to kill"). The hook compares physical closeness to body ink (“se me pega como un tattoo” / "sticks to me like a tattoo"), setting the mood for a bold party track loaded with swagger, diamonds, and movie-level drama—even comparing the girl to a character straight out of a Quentin Tarantino film (“Una muñequita de una peli Tarantino”).

Along the way, the lyrics offer great slang and cultural references to learn. Kali describes herself using delicious Colombian staples, saying she is as soft as honey and coconut and sweet like arepas de choclo (sweet corn cakes). She shouts out women from Brazil, Colombia, the Dominican Republic, Puerto Rico, and Mexico, delivering a totally shameless, direct line: “Y esta noche soy lesbiana, tú me das las ganas” ("And tonight I'm a lesbian, you give me the urge"). Meanwhile, KAROL G sprinkles in heavy Medellín street slang like chimba (Colombian slang for cool or amazing) when she guarantees nobody is hotter (“nadie está más chimba que tú”). Packed with talk of strawberry lip gloss, sunroofs, and bitten lips, it is a fun, upfront celebration of pure seduction.

Get ready for a song that is all about confidence and feeling amazing in your own skin. "Muñekita" is a high-energy party track where Kali Uchis, JT, and El Alfa each take a turn to celebrate themselves. The whole song repeats the words "gata" [kitty] and "muñequita" [little doll], which Kali uses to describe a woman who knows what she wants. She presents herself as the perfect mix of sweet and sexy, singing, "Tu angelita es lo que necesitas" [Your little angel is what you need] right before switching it up with "Bien sudadita, soy tu mamacita" [All sweaty, I'm your mamacita].

Then, JT from City Girls comes in with a verse full of incredible, funny lines about her own power. She has no time for anyone who doesn't treat her right, declaring, "A mi manera o de ninguno" [My way or no way at all]. She dismisses haters with lines like "You bitches do not exist to me" and has a hilarious, sharp take on a children's healing rhyme: "Sana, sana, culita de rana, bitch" [Heal, heal, little frog's butt, bitch]. It's a song for when you're feeling yourself and want the whole world to know it.

Me Pongo Loca is Kali Uchis’ bilingual celebration of raw passion and fearless self-expression. Jumping between Spanish and English, the Colombian-American singer lays out a tale of someone who has been hurt, but refuses to bury her emotions or dim her fire. She admits she can “get a little crazy,” yet insists it is simply the side effect of being “apasionada,” a woman who lives and loves intensely. Rather than apologizing, she flaunts her confidence, her sexuality, and her realness, warning anyone who prefers fake smiles or half-truths to keep their distance.

Beneath the catchy, hypnotic beat, Kali calls out emotional games, frenemies, and empty lies, reminding us that authenticity often makes enemies—but it also sets us free. The song swings between moments of frustration (“ya estoy harta de pensar”) and liberating self-acceptance (“pussy too good, can’t get rid of me”), capturing the messy, magnetic energy of refusing to be quiet or cold. In short, Me Pongo Loca is an empowering anthem for anyone who has ever been told they feel too much, turning that intensity into a badge of honor rather than a flaw.