Picture yourself on a warm Caribbean night with a gentle salsa-tinged breeze. That is the backdrop for “La Falta,” where Colombian star Mike Bahía teams up with Mexican powerhouse Carin León to confess just how unbearable distance can feel. Over sunny guitars and laid-back percussion, the singer has a heart-to-heart with himself, admits his pride, and reaches for the phone because “me está haciendo falta verte aquí y eso así me mata” (I’m missing you so badly it’s killing me).
The lyrics mix playful pop-culture nods with raw vulnerability: he dreams of future grandchildren calling him abuelo, jokes that no referee can “whistle” this penalty, and even pleads for lessons on how to forget. Beneath the tropical groove, the song is an earnest apology wrapped in optimism, inviting the listener to believe that love can bounce back if we drop our egos, speak up, and dance our way back into each other’s arms.
Feel the rush of a secret crush! In “De Qué Manera,” Colombian singer Mike Bahía turns everyday pop into a diary of heart-pounding suspense. The lyrics follow someone who is hopelessly in love with a close friend: his breath stops when she looks at him, his mind races with daydreams of stealing a kiss, yet fear keeps him silent. Between playful guitar licks and urban beats, he confesses how hard it is to pretend everything is fine while she talks about another guy.
At its core, the song is a tug-of-war between desire and fear. He wants to shout his feelings, but staying in the “friend zone” is the only way to remain near her. Cupid’s arrow has clearly misfired, leaving him stuck in an aching limbo where fantasy feels more real than reality. Mike Bahía captures that bittersweet mix of hope, jealousy, and vulnerability that anyone with an unspoken crush will instantly recognize.
Get ready to slip into a night lit by pure chemistry. Esta Noche is Mike Bahía and Greeicy’s invitation to believe that, when love feels this electric, even the impossible can happen. One kiss sets everything in motion, and every tiny gesture proves their feelings run deep. They happily lose themselves in each other’s hearts and pray no one ever pulls them out.
The chorus, "Esta noche está puesta para nosotros", shouts that the evening is theirs alone—no clocks, no rules, just two voices confessing that they have found the love of their lives. With playful back-and-forth lines, they celebrate that dizzy rush when time slips away like a sigh. It is a pop-perfect ode to seizing the moment, living for the spark, and wishing that sunrise would never come.
Bolerito unfolds like a dreamy farewell scene: suitcases snap shut, kisses linger, and time suddenly feels too short. Over smooth tropical beats, Mike Bahía pleads for a few last sparks of affection to keep loneliness at bay. He swears his love is more genuine than any she has heard before, and he wishes a single lifetime were long enough to show it.
Under the catchy melody lies a surprisingly profound fear: not heartbreak, but mortality itself. After tasting this love, death is the only thing that scares him because it might tear them apart. Yet even that thought turns hopeful; if another life awaits, he vows to search every corner of the universe to find her and love her all over again. "Bolerito" becomes a modern serenade that blends playful Colombian rhythms with timeless devotion, perfect for learning vocabulary about travel, longing, and eternal love.
"Hola Mi Amor" invites us into a bittersweet goodbye where love is still burning, yet the singer knows he must walk away. Colombian artist Mike Bahía paints the scene with confessions like “Lo siento, me voy” and “Creo que el amor de tu vida no soy”, showing a lover torn between passion and the painful truth that staying would only cause deeper wounds. Every line feels like a last embrace: he begs for one more kiss, one more touch, while the sky he once shared with his partner seems to crumble over them.
Rather than a happy love song, this track is a heartfelt lesson in letting go. Mike admits that his heart can belong to no one else, yet he frees the other person to avoid future cicatrices (scars). The chorus reveals the sting of saying te quiero right before leaving—the most heartbreaking “I love you” of all. “Hola, mi amor… Bye, mi amor” sums up the paradox: welcoming love and bidding it farewell in the same breath. Ultimately, the song teaches us that true affection sometimes means stepping aside, protecting both hearts from greater pain, and cherishing what was beautiful without clinging to what can no longer be.
La Pena (which can be understood as heartache in Spanish) is Mike Bahía’s bittersweet confession that even the most colorful love story can fade to gray. Over a catchy Latin pop groove, the Colombian singer looks back on a relationship where he gave everything and received almost nothing in return. He compares himself to a teen in love while she stays as cold and distant as a widow at a funeral, and he realizes that his once-bright world was actually lived with eyes closed.
The chorus drives home the message: there is no pain tougher than loving alone. Promises mean little when they are not backed by action, and memories hurt when they remind you that your devotion was never matched. By the end, Mike questions whether he can love again, since one bad experience now makes him see every woman as a potential heartbreaker. The song is both a lament and a lesson about self-worth, urging listeners to look for love that is shown, not just spoken.
“Algún Día” finds Colombian singer Mike Bahía stuck in that messy middle ground between heartbreak and healing. With a catchy, rhythmic beat that invites you to sway, the lyrics confess a different story: he keeps promising himself that someday he will forget his ex, say her name without wincing, and even see her with someone else without feeling a sting. Yet, every chorus admits the opposite—he is going “de mal en peor,” still walking toward her house as if she were waiting for him.
Behind the upbeat groove lies a mix of regret, self-doubt, and stubborn hope. Mike questions why her supposedly heartfelt love never gave him a real place, why her kisses felt “poor,” and why he had to invent the affection he craved. Unable to let go, he chooses to dream, because in dreams they become the couple they never managed to be in real life. “Algún Día” captures that universal tug-of-war between wanting to move on and secretly wishing the love could still be salvaged—an emotional anthem for anyone who has ever told themselves, Just a little longer, then I’ll be fine.
Mike Bahía turns romantic turbulence into a feel-good dance in "CHA CHA". Over a breezy, tropical beat, the Colombian singer admits that real love is anything but simple—what is precious can also be fragile. Yet every disagreement feels like just another step in a playful cha-cha, leading the couple back to each other with renewed passion.
The lyrics celebrate choosing the same person again and again. After each clash, there is a truce sealed with kisses, wine, a little relaxation, and a dream getaway to Hawaii where he even imagines proposing. Bahía’s message is clear: a once-in-a-lifetime love is worth fighting for, and the sweetest victories come when peace is made and the music plays on.
Mike Bahía’s “Verdad Verdad” is a heartfelt confession wrapped in a breezy Latin-pop groove. The Colombian singer lays all his cards on the table: he is broke, he works from sunrise to sunset, and he is made of “errores y más.” Far from self-pity, these admissions show a man who owns his imperfections with personality and grit. Yes, he has been betrayed, yes, he has cried, and yes, there are “mil razones” to doubt him, but he counters every shortcoming with the simplest, strongest promise—no one will love you quite like he does.
The song becomes an anthem of honest love, where vulnerability turns into strength. By spotlighting real-life struggles and emotional scars, Bahía invites listeners to embrace their flaws while still daring to offer genuine affection. “Verdad Verdad” reminds us that authenticity, not perfection, is what makes a relationship unforgettable.
Mike Bahía’s ‘Amor A Mitad’ is a candid love manifesto straight from the Colombian coast to your headphones. The singer flips through the “chapters” of a not-quite-defined relationship and decides it is time to give the story a proper title. For Mike, halfway love is simply not an option: he craves a bond that is exclusive, official, and unmistakably two-player. With catchy melodies and playful wording, he politely but firmly asks his crush to avoid giving him wings if she is not ready to fly at his side.
Old-school romance with modern honesty pulses through every line. Mike admits he is “egoísta en el amor,” wanting his partner “toda enterita” and free from outside interference. He offers friendship if commitment feels like too much, but his preference is crystal clear: all in or nothing at all. The song becomes an upbeat reminder that setting boundaries and asking for what you want can sound as smooth as a tropical groove. Listeners come away humming the hook and, perhaps, inspired to demand no less than a full-hearted love of their own.
“Desaparecida” is Mike Bahía’s bittersweet detective story of the heart. The Colombian singer finds himself waking up next to someone who looks exactly like the woman he loves, yet feels like a total stranger. With every familiar feature—her face, her hair, even the sound of her name—he is reminded that the sparkle that once connected them has mysteriously vanished. The song captures that unsettling moment when love seems to slip away in silence, leaving you questioning whether the person beside you has changed or if they were ever truly there at all.
Bahía’s lyrics move between nostalgia and suspicion, painting vivid images of cold stares and faded affection while hinting at hidden adventures or secrets that may have stolen his partner’s warmth. His repeated plea, “Ella ya no está aquí,” underlines the haunting idea that someone can physically remain while their essence is long gone. It’s a relatable, catchy exploration of lost intimacy—perfect for reflecting on how quickly love can transform, and how hard we search for the version of someone who once made us feel alive.
Mi Pecadito is a cheeky confession booth set to a tropical beat. Mike Bahía and Greeicy play the roles of two lovers who know perfectly well that their romance is out of bounds, yet cannot resist the thrill. Between an angel whispering “stop” and a devil urging “go on,” they admit they have become “slaves” to each other’s kisses. The song paints secrecy as a game: fake contact names in the phone, no evidence left behind, and a pact to enjoy the rush while it lasts.
At its heart, the track talks about how routine can dull even the most solid relationships, and how forbidden chemistry can feel like the perfect antidote. The singers acknowledge the moral grey area—“it’s human to sin”—but also the genuine feelings underneath the clandestine meetings. With flirtatious back-and-forth vocals and an irresistible Colombian pop-urban groove, “Mi Pecadito” invites listeners to dance, smile, and ponder how temptation can blur the lines between right and wrong.
La Indocumentada spins a telenovela-worthy tale set to Mike Bahía’s irresistible pop-tropical groove. Our storyteller is a Colombian dreamer who plans a sham wedding in the United States just to get legal papers, bring over the real sweetheart back home, and then live happily ever after. Easy, right? Except Cupid gate-crashes the immigration office. While pretending to love the American “gringo,” the protagonist accidentally catches real feelings, turning a cold transaction into a hot romance and leaving the original boyfriend with nothing but apologies.
The song dives into the messy crossroads of love, legality, and identity: fake vows turn genuine, accents switch from Spanish to English, and a carefully scripted plan unravels in less than a month. Mike Bahía uses witty lyrics and a danceable beat to highlight the emotional cost of chasing a better life abroad—the heart does not follow immigration rules. Expect humor, drama, and a reminder that you can fill out all the right forms yet still end up in a love triangle you never saw coming.
Amor Sincero is Mike Bahía’s warm hug to the most important woman in his world—his mamá. While the Colombian singer sits “to remember” everything he has lived, he realizes that the one truly real thing he owns is the unconditional love she has always given him. He thanks her for every sacrifice, every lesson, and every smile, promising to visit more, take her out, and make her feel as special as she has always made him feel.
The song is also a humble prayer. Mike asks God to protect his “viejita linda,” keep her healthy, and let her be present when his music tops the charts so he can finally repay all she has done. With an infectious Latin pop groove, the lyrics remind us to treasure our parents, value the time that slips away, and celebrate the sincere love that shapes who we are.
Bolerito (Remix) is a modern love letter wrapped in the velvety sounds of Colombian singer Mike Bahía and the nostalgic bolero flair of Mexican duo Daniel, Me Estás Matando. The lyrics open on the bittersweet image of a lover packing their bags, hinting at an inevitable goodbye. Yet, instead of drowning in sadness, the song focuses on treasuring every remaining second: the singer begs for “a couple of kisses that turn into something more” so the memory is rich enough to outlast the separation.
Underneath the smooth melody lies an epic declaration of devotion. The narrator admits that one lifetime is simply not enough time to love this person; after experiencing such passion, his only fear is death itself—and even that won't stop him. If there is another life, he promises to hunt the heavens just to “love you again, my life.” In short, Bolerito (Remix) celebrates a love so intense that it stretches beyond goodbyes, beyond fear, and even beyond mortality, all while dancing to a romantic, old-school groove that feels both timeless and fresh.
La Lá is Mike Bahía’s playful confession of being hopelessly addicted to a woman whose charm is equal parts sweet and dangerously seductive. He describes how no one makes him feel the way she does in bed, how her smile lures every man around, and how her kisses leave him craving “más y más.” Even though his friends warn that she is trouble, he cannot resist her wicked mind and daring attitude.
In this urban-pop anthem, the Colombian singer paints the picture of a modern “she-devil” who breaks all the rules: she loves experimenting, plays hard to get, and keeps him chasing. The repeated hook “Tú eres una diabla la lá” celebrates her bold, free-spirited nature while revealing his voluntary surrender to the thrill. The song is a flirtatious ode to temptation, highlighting that sometimes the most intoxicating relationships are the ones we know are bad for us — yet we still want more.
Mike Bahía’s “Quédate Aquí” is a heart-on-sleeve serenade that captures the bliss of finding “the one” and never wanting to let go. The Colombian singer rewinds to the magic moment he met his partner, calling it “the best story I have to tell.” From there, the lyrics unfold like a love-struck diary: he vividly remembers asking her to be his girl, vowing she would never have to return home because his arms would become her forever place. Over a relaxed, tropical beat, Mike stacks tender requests — “Stay here, my love… give me your heart, your little mouth” — celebrating how her scent, kisses, and very presence make him a better man.
The chorus is a joyous plea: “Quédate aquí” (Stay here). Having her affection means nothing else is missing; without it, the world feels incomplete. By promising lifelong protection and repeating how her beauty lives rent-free in his mind, Mike paints a portrait of a devotion that’s bigger than ordinary amor. “Quédate Aquí” is essentially a musical embrace, perfect for anyone who wants a catchy reminder that real love isn’t just felt — it’s asked for, cherished, and sung out loud.
Mike Bahía and Danny Ocean invite us into a push-and-pull love story where the heart finally draws a line. Detente paints the picture of someone who keeps walking out, only to waltz back in as if nothing happened. The narrator has had enough of this emotional merry-go-round; if the visitor’s feelings are not genuine love, they are politely (but firmly) asked to stop playing games.
With catchy hooks and a tropical pop groove, the song balances frustration and charm. It turns a common relationship dilemma into a sing-along anthem of self-respect, reminding listeners that affection without sincerity is just a sweet-sounding capricho. Whether you are dancing or reflecting, Detente encourages you to protect your peace and demand the honest te quiero you deserve.
La Rutina is a feel-good wake-up call for couples stuck on autopilot. Mike Bahía sings as a boyfriend who suddenly realizes that daily life has turned into an endless loop of Netflix, take-out, and silence. To break that spell, he steals the prettiest flower he can find, dusts off an old DVD of their very first date, and cooks (badly) just to see her smile. Every playful gesture shouts the same message: remember how crazy in love we were?
Behind the lighthearted tone lies a deeper urge to safeguard love before time and routine wear it out. He suggests walking hand in hand so their paths never drift apart and jokes that, if “nothing lasts forever,” he wants to be her nothing. The song is both a romantic flashback and a fresh promise: to keep surprising each other, to live the moment, and to make sure neither of them forgets why they chose each other in the first place.
Mike Bahía invites us into the echoing silence that follows a breakup. In Canciones Con Mentiras, he remembers how he was "feliz contigo" yet now can only ask, "¿Por qué no estás aquí?". The song feels like reading old love letters while the ink is still wet - every line drips with longing, confusion, and the sting of unkept promises. We hear a man who gave "todo lo que tú pediste" and is stunned that it still was not enough.
Instead of drowning in sorrow, Mike turns the pain into creativity. The catchy chorus vows, "Escribiré canciones con mentiras" - he will recycle the lies she told ("decías que eras mía") and spin them into melodies the whole world can sing. The result is a bittersweet anthem that shows how heartbreak can fuel art, transforming lost love into an infectious tropical pop track you will want to dance to even while wiping away a tear.
“La Depre” lets us peek inside one of those gray days when nothing feels right and the best plan is to stay in bed with the curtains closed. Colombian singer Mike Bahía confesses that his energy is on empty: he does not want to party, answer calls, or even see the sun rise. Throughout the song he lists the classic symptoms of a slump – no motivation, phone off, zero desire for social plans – and admits that his mood is “por el piso” (on the floor).
Yet behind the melancholy there is an encouraging message. Mike repeats that it is okay not to feel okay; these low moments are temporary and tomorrow he feels it will pass. “La Depre” becomes an anthem of self-care, reminding us that canceling plans and taking a mental break is sometimes the healthiest choice. The upbeat reggae-pop vibe wraps this honest confession in a warm musical hug, helping listeners recognize their own down days and trust that brighter ones are on the way.
Cuenta Conmigo is a sun-soaked declaration of attraction where Mike Bahía and his all-star guests promise, “If you can count, count on me.” Over bubbling reggaetón beats, they confess that this special someone has an irresistible “no-sé-qué” that keeps them daydreaming. The song bounces between sweet reassurance and playful flirtation: the singers want to be lover, boyfriend, and best friend all at once, ready to explore every corner of their partner’s world.
While the chorus chants about stealing private moments together, the verses paint a bigger scene. Picture a Caribbean night out: friends raise rum-and-cola, guaro shots flow, the DJ spins their favorite rola, and laughter fills the street. Amid the party vibes each artist slips in cheeky imagery—Twitter-worthy fantasies, spicy dance moves, and a promise that luck is no longer single. At its heart, the track is both a celebration and an invitation: let’s toast, dance, and when the music fades, disappear together—complete, whole, total.
Serenata is Mike Bahía’s bittersweet farewell to a love that slipped through his fingers. Picture a late-night balcony scene: guitar in hand, he sings one last serenade to the woman who once asked for “time.” While she smiled and handed out kisses without real feeling, he swallowed his words and watched their love slowly fade. Now, with a mix of sadness and relief, he admits that waiting only left him feeling lonely, even when they were together.
The song pivots from heartbreak to healing. Bahía lays out honest questions—“¿qué se siente…?”—then firmly decides, “sin ti voy a estar mejor.” His final chorus is both a confession and a release: the serenade hurts him too, but singing it sets him free. In just a few melodic minutes, Serenata turns an aching goodbye into an empowering promise to move on and start over.