Learn Spanish With ROSALÍA with these 23 Song Recommendations (Full Translations Included!)
BESO unfolds like a late-night love confession where ROSALÍA and Rauw Alejandro turn every beat into a heartbeat. The singers paint an addictive push-and-pull romance: “estar lejos de ti es el infierno, estar cerca de ti es mi paz.” Craving “otro beso,” they mix everyday sensuality—scents of tobacco and melon, a lazy Sunday in the city—with sky-high devotion: they would bend time, tie up the heavens, and follow each other anywhere.
Layered over a smooth reggaeton groove, the lyrics celebrate a love that is both playful and ride-or-die. ROSALÍA marvels at Rauw’s god-like dancing and instinctive kissing; Rauw calls her the “infinite exponent,” someone even the moon can’t contain. Their back-and-forth is a musical kiss in itself, reminding listeners that a single touch can flip hell into heaven and make the whole world feel close, no matter the distance.
La Fama turns the spotlight into a seductive villain. ROSALÍA, joined by The Weeknd, spins a cautionary tale where fame is personified as a dangerously attractive lover: glittering, addictive, and fiercely jealous. The narrator admits she once had a “bebé… algo bien especial,” but her growing obsession with hits and applause pushed that real love aside. While melodies flooded her mind, her partner sensed the change, warning her again and again. She brushed it off—until the price of stardom stabbed back like a “puñaladita.”
The chorus delivers the lesson with a catchy punch: “Es mala amante la fama.” Fame will flirt, then flee. It demands total attention, yet promises no true affection. You can share a night with it, the song teases, “pero nunca la vayas a casar.” Beneath the urbano beat and the bilingual back-and-forth, ROSALÍA and The Weeknd remind us that applause fades fast, ambition cuts deep, and the heart left waiting in the dark might be your own.
“Con Altura” literally means “with height,” but in street Spanish it really says “with swagger, with style.” In this high-energy reggaeton hit, ROSALÍA teams up with J Balvin and producer El Guincho to celebrate going all-in on life. The lyrics paint a picture of fast cars, glittering jewelry, legendary musical influences and risk-taking nights. ROSALÍA boasts that everything she does “dura” (lasts) while tipping her hat to greats like Héctor Lavoe and Camarón de la Isla, reminding listeners that her modern sound is rooted in classic Latin artistry.
At its core, the song is a joyful flex: we’re young, we’re unstoppable and we’re flying high. The chorus repeats a carefree mantra of living fast with no cure, accepting that they might “go young to the grave”—yet they keep pushing the tempo anyway. The pounding dembow rhythm, playful call-and-response, and vivid images of blue flowers and diamonds all underline a single message: when you step into ROSALÍA’s world, you do it con altura—with confidence, flavor and impossible-to-ignore style.
DESPECHÁ is Rosalía’s fiery kiss-off anthem, bursting with Caribbean beats and her signature Motomami swagger. The title comes from the slang despechada — that delicious mix of spite and freedom you feel right after ditching someone who dragged you down. From the very first line she tells the ex to stop calling, because tonight is reserved for dancing, piña coladas, and a brand-new hacked flow that swings “de lado a lado.” The club becomes her playground, her friends are crowned queens, and every shake of the hips is a reminder that heartbreak can fuel pure, unstoppable fun.
Beneath the glittering urban rhythms, the song is a loud celebration of female camaraderie and self-confidence. Rosalía races forward at “ciento ochenta,” outpacing any lingering sadness while chanting an easy ABC to show just how simple moving on can be. Forget fame, forget work, forget the past — this Motomami is reclaiming the night, proving that the best revenge is living (and dancing) fabulously well.
Omega whirls us into a vivid dreamscape where love hits like a cinematic slow-motion scene. ROSALÍA and Ralphie Choo paint the picture of two souls “lost among poppies,” their chemistry so electric that her lover’s eyes gleam like twin pistols. This partner becomes a life-changing force: vices drop away, confidence soars, and even language itself feels newly alive as “the tongues embrace.” Every detail he leaves behind triggers memories that keep her spinning in devotion, proving romance can be both a tender lullaby and an adrenaline rush at once.
The chorus crowns the lover as her omega – the final letter of the Greek alphabet, a symbol for “the end,” yet here it signals a powerful rebirth. ROSALÍA revels in her freedom to be anything she pleases, boasting she can shift from “Céline Dion” sweetness to “un tíguere” swagger in a heartbeat. That shapeshifting confidence, wrapped in pop production and Spanish flair, turns the track into an anthem for self-reinvention through love. In short, Omega celebrates a passion so intense it wipes the slate clean, writes its own destiny, and leaves an indelible mark no higher power can erase.
PROMESA is a star-lit vow wrapped in Latin Urbano beats. Rosalía and Rauw Alejandro sing about a promise so strong it outshines logic, storms, and distance. Water, pearls, and ocean currents paint a picture of emotions that flow freely while lovers recharge each other with every smile. The chorus reminds us that what matters is not how a love story starts but how it ends, and their hearts weigh more than any careful reasoning.
The song then bursts into a day-dreaming list of adventures: eating cherries on mountain tops, skinny-dipping at night, drawing portraits on the beach, and laughing over a hundred empty bottles. It is an ode to fearless affection, to living boldly in the present, and to the certainty that even if they get separated, destiny will bring them back together. "PROMESA" feels like a postcard from two wild spirits who would rather chase sunsets and possibilities than ever look back.
Chicken Teriyaki is Rosalía’s playful victory lap through the streets of New York, where she struts past jewelers, skaters, and critics with the same carefree energy you’d use to order fast food. Packed with inside jokes, runway references, and foodie wordplay, the song is really about flexing: flexing her success, her fashion sense, and her freedom to do things her own way. Every shout-out (from Naomi in the 90s to Julio in the 70s) is a reminder that she now moves in legendary circles, yet she still keeps things light with tongue-in-cheek lines about “chicken teriyaki” and sushi cravings.
Under the glossy reggaeton beat, Rosalía nods to the ups and downs of fame — “la fama es una condena” — but she shrugs off the pressure with whip-smart humor and unstoppable confidence. The chorus’ catchy food imagery isn’t really about lunch; it’s a tasty metaphor for instant gratification and a life where desires are met at lightning speed. In short, this is a swagger-filled anthem celebrating money, independence, and the delicious fun of living large.
Yo X Ti, Tú X Mí is a playful love anthem where Spain meets Puerto Rico. Over a smooth reggaetón beat, ROSALÍA and Ozuna trade lines that feel like a flirtatious game of ping-pong: “yo por ti, tú por mí” (me for you, you for me). The phrase repeats like a heartbeat, underscoring a pact of mutual devotion. They brag about worldwide success, diamonds, and sold-out shows, yet every boast circles back to the same idea: fame is sweet, but having someone who has your back is sweeter.
Behind the luxury images—“flowers and money,” “tickets and diamonds”—the song celebrates loyalty, chemistry, and the thrill of finding a partner who matches your energy. ROSALÍA bets everything on the lucky number seven if Ozuna will catch her when she falls; Ozuna says he would spend all he has just to see her eyes shine. Together they paint love as a fearless, glitzy adventure where each is willing to risk it all for the other. The message is simple and catchy: when two people commit to lifting each other up, they feel unstoppable… and they can make the whole block dance to their song.
“SAOKO” is ROSALÍA’s sonic adrenaline shot. The title borrows a Puerto Rican slang word that means flavor, swing, raw energy, and the song feels like a motor revving at top speed. ROSALÍA samples Daddy Yankee and Wisin, nods to classic reggaetón, then twists it with jazz pianos and industrial beats. The lyrics celebrate constant movement: pearls turn into something new, water freezes into ice, night flips into day. Each line shouts that nothing stays the same when real power is in motion.
Transformation is the heart of the track. ROSALÍA compares herself to a butterfly, a drag-queen in full makeup, a Trojan horse, even a burning match. By chanting “Yo me transformo” (“I transform myself”), she rejects any box the world tries to place her in. The final rally cry—“Fuck el estilo”—urges listeners to cut up the rulebook, stitch their own look, and speed off with the unstoppable confidence of a Motomami.
G3 N15 feels like stumbling across a heartfelt voice memo hidden inside ROSALÍA’s phone. Over airy production, she speaks straight to a young relative she has not seen for two years: apologizing for everything she has missed, guessing at his hobbies, and sending him an “angel ardiendo en el pecho” so he never feels cold. Her words glow with sister-aunt energy—tender, playful, a bit guilty—while vivid images of syringes, fashion models, and marble stars reveal the gritty places fame has dragged her. She paints a split screen: on one side, the innocent blue-eyed child; on the other, the nightlife where “nadie está en paz.” The contrast turns the song into a protective lullaby, promising distance between him and the darker corners of her world.
Mid-track, a warm Catalan-Portuguese voicemail from her grandmother slips in, reminding ROSALÍA (and us) of the order of things: God first, then family. That blessing wraps the song like a homemade quilt, grounding its melancholy in faith and kinship. The result is a moving postcard about absence, responsibility, and the unbreakable thread that ties family together, no matter how complicated the road becomes.
ROSALÍA turns a seemingly innocent lullaby into a daring confession of desire. Over a delicate piano line she sings about riding her lover like a bike, mixing softness with unabashed eroticism. The title “HENTAI” borrows the Japanese word for explicit anime, turning it into a playful code for her own fantasies. While the chorus repeats a child-like “so good,” the verses celebrate female pleasure, reminding us that pleasure comes after spirituality: “Lo primero es Dios, segundo es chingarte.”
Throughout the song ROSALÍA peppers the lyrics with vivid images—a shining diamond tip, a crimson poppy, a crashing wave—to paint her lover as both dangerous and irresistible. By contrasting sweet melodies with candid language, she reclaims sensuality on her own terms, inviting listeners to embrace desire without shame and to enjoy the surprising blend of tenderness and audacity that makes the track unforgettable.
Rosalía’s “COMO UN G” is a bold confession that blends street swagger with heartfelt vulnerability. Over an atmospheric beat, she steps into the role of a G — someone tough, fearless, and self-reliant — yet she openly wrestles with love that cannot stay. The lyrics move like a midnight drive: headlights, sleepless nights, and a heart that refuses to quit. She tells her absent lover, “If you can’t keep it, let it go,” wishing them peace and freedom even while promising she would “matar por ti.” It’s a striking mix of armor and tenderness, faith and doubt, independence and longing.
At its core, the song is about emotional debts, accepting destiny, and the paradox of loving from a distance. Rosalía repeats “Sólo el amor con amor se paga” (Only love pays for love) to underline that true affection must be freely given, never owed. She prays for angels, clings to her faith, and reminds us that sometimes the bravest act is releasing what we cherish. “COMO UN G” ultimately celebrates a love that survives without possession, sung by an artist who can be both warrior and romantic in the very same breath.
Put on your black shades and pull the moon closer: in “VAMPIROS” ROSALÍA and Rauw Alejandro slip into nocturnal alter egos who rule the night with electric swagger. ROSALÍA’s pistola (her fierce confidence) fires without a safety as she glides from Barcelona to the Puerto Rican barrio of Carola, refusing to follow trends because she is the wave. Together they set the streets prendías, cruising through smoke-filled air while music pounds and outsiders’ opinions dissolve with the dawn.
Calling themselves vampires, the duo celebrates a love and creativity that feel unstoppable, timeless, almost immortal. The lyrics mix playful boasting with sharp-fanged imagery, wabi-sabi beauty and warnings about betrayal, but the core message stays bright: live boldly, protect your tribe and dance through the darkness until sunrise without ever losing your bite.
“CHIRI” is ROSALÍA’s swagger-filled love letter to la calle—the vibrant street culture that shaped her. Over a hard-hitting beat spiced with flamenco riffs, she presents herself as an almost addictive substance: “ya estás enganchao’, soy heroína… soy cocaína.” The lyrics paint a picture of magnetic confidence: everyone chases money and freedom, yet what she really seeks is a deeper connection that destiny keeps hinting at. She moves through the world “a mi manera,” sleeping in a custom hoodie and turning everyday life into high-fashion legend, all while the streets fall head-over-heels for her fearless energy.
At its core the song celebrates power, seduction, and artistic fusion. ROSALÍA blends old-school rumba and tanguillo with modern swagger, nodding to flamenco icons (Canelita, Jalillo) while staking her own claim in today’s urban soundscape. “CHIRI” pulses with the thrill of independence: the artist is both enamored with the street and the object of its obsession, proving that her voice, style, and chains shine brightest when she walks her own path.
Aunque Es De Noche is ROSALÍA’s hypnotic take on a 16th-century mystical poem by Spanish friar San Juan de la Cruz. Throughout the song she sings about an eterna fuente – an eternal fountain – that keeps flowing even when everything around seems dark. This hidden spring stands for a divine, limitless source of love and inspiration. By repeating aunque es de noche (“even though it is night”) ROSALÍA reminds us that faith, hope and creativity can keep pouring out, no matter how obscure or uncertain life feels.
As the verses describe water that no one can reach, light that never fades and currents that refresh heaven, earth and even the underworld, the track becomes a celebration of spiritual resilience. With her flamenco lamentos and modern beats, ROSALÍA turns a centuries-old prayer into a contemporary anthem about trusting the invisible, sensing beauty in the shadows and letting an unseen power nourish our souls.
“LLYLM” (Lie Like You Love Me) is ROSALÍA’s glitter-soaked invitation to a bilingual carnival of feelings. Over a beat that jumps between flamenco flair and pop sparkle, the Spanish artist paints the scene: she’s dressed in coconut and cinnamon perfume, riding a motorbike, ready to swap reality for fantasy just for the night. The lyrics flip between Spanish and English to mirror her split desire—part of her knows the love is unrequited, but the other part wants to believe the masquerade.
Rather than demanding truth, ROSALÍA asks for a beautiful lie: “cover me in a dream” so the illusion can feel real enough to heal a bruised heart. A simple flower bracelet becomes her secret totem, proof that the carnival magic actually happened. In the end, “LLYLM” is about reclaiming power in vulnerability—choosing a playful escape, letting temporary affection light up the night, and deciding that even if love is pretend, the emotions it sparks can still be genuinely unforgettable.
Rosalía turns a whispered request into a fiery ritual. In Di Mi Nombre she invites her lover to say her name when no one else is listening, wrapping the moment in secrecy and suspense. The repeated “Ali, Ali” echoes the traditional “jaleo” shouts heard in flamenco, reminding us that passion can be both ancient and immediate. The lyrics paint an intense picture: hair becomes a rope, a bedroom corner becomes an altar, and forbidden pleasure is suddenly blessed. By asking her partner to turn “lo malo” (the bad) into something “bendecido” (blessed), Rosalía blurs the line between the sacred and the sensual, celebrating desire that is intimate yet powerful.
This song is a celebration of identity and ownership. Every time she urges, “Di mi nombre” (Say my name), Rosalía reclaims her space in the relationship and in the wider tradition of flamenco, where women’s voices have often been framed by male perspectives. With hypnotic vocals and modern production fused with flamenco flair, she transforms a private plea into an anthem of bold vulnerability, proving that naming, claiming, and loving can all happen in a single breath.
MOTOMAMI is Rosalía’s high-octane self-portrait, mixing the roar of a moto with the nurturing flair of a mami. In quick, vivid snapshots she paints herself as pesa mi tatami (solid and grounded), fina la origami (elegant and intricate), and cruda a lo sashimi (raw and unapologetic). Each contrast reminds us that power and tenderness can share the same engine. Her refrain “okay, motomami” feels like hitting the ignition switch of confidence, while blessing her imitators shows she is too busy blazing her own trail to worry about rivals.
Underneath the playful wordplay lies a manifesto of fearless individuality. Rosalía waves off competition because, in her world, there is “no comparison” to her fusion of flamenco roots, Japanese imagery, and urban swagger. Tsunami-sized beats and a devil-ish heart hint at unstoppable energy and a taste for risk. MOTOMAMI invites you to celebrate every contradiction inside you, rev your creative engine, and speed forward with unapologetic self-expression.
ROSALÍA’s “CANDY” feels like walking into a neon-lit club where past love and luxury fashion collide. Wrapped in a Fendi outfit and swaying to the classic reggaetón hit “Candy” by Plan B, the Spanish superstar paints a picture of the very night an old flame became spellbound by her. Fast-forward to the present: she’s mastered the art of forgetting, while he’s still stuck on replay, unable to erase her from his mind.
The lyrics flip between sweet nostalgia and cool detachment. ROSALÍA admits the breakup hurt “solo en parte,” yet she has turned letting go into an arte. She barely remembers his face, his shape, or why they even mattered. Still, every “na-na-na” chant reminds him—and us—that some memories refuse to fade. “CANDY” is ultimately a bittersweet groove about reclaiming power after heartbreak, celebrating self-worth on the dance floor, and proving that life, just like love, can be “bonita” and “traicionera” all at once.
LA COMBI VERSACE feels like a late–night fashion runway set on the streets of the Caribbean and Madrid. ROSALÍA and Tokischa link up juntas por la noche (together at night) to celebrate sisterhood, sensuality, and pure excess. The lyrics name-drop a treasure chest of luxury labels—Versace, Dior, Gucci, Valentino, Moschino—while the women strut with unapologetic confidence, mixing haute couture with street swagger. It is a playful brag: they can turn up in real designer pieces or rock fakes and still be “the most real”. Every chorus chants their mantra: dark hair gleaming, designer combo shining, ready to splash out and mesmerize anyone who crosses their path.
Under the sparkle of brand names lies a deeper message of empowerment. By owning their style, flaunting their bodies, and blessing the night with music, ROSALÍA and Tokischa rewrite the rules of luxury: it is not about price tags, it is about attitude, freedom, and friendship. The song invites listeners to join the party, feel the beat, and wear their confidence like a dazzling Versace fit—no permission needed.
Delirio de Grandeza paints a dramatic picture of a lover shattered by betrayal. The singer accuses his partner of trading love for gold and ambition, partying with friends while he languishes in agony. He calls her a “mujer sin corazón” (heartless woman) and describes himself as a martyr driven mad by love. Yet even in his deepest hurt, he clings to the belief that time will serve justice and she will eventually return in search of genuine affection.
ROSÁLÍA injects this classic tale of wounded pride with her own playful twist. The vintage bolero verses collide with the hypnotic, English-sample refrain “Man, it’s ridiculous, I got you so delirious” to mirror the push-and-pull of obsession: anguish on one side, irresistible attraction on the other. The result is a song that feels both nostalgic and fiercely modern, capturing how pride, greed, and longing can all blur together when love turns into a fever dream.
“BIZCOCHITO” is Rosalía’s playful clap-back to anyone who tries to sugar-coat, control, or underestimate her. By declaring “yo no soy tu bizcochito” (I’m not and I won’t be your little cookie), the Spanish superstar pokes fun at the idea of being a sweet, passive treat while bragging that she owns every quality people label as “delito” (a crime). She melts in the sun, brushes off the evil eye, and asks a cheeky question: are you the one who pimps, or the one who gets pimped? The answer is clear—since the day she was born, she’s chosen her side and it’s the one calling the shots.
The track doubles as a victory lap and a warning. Rosalía reminds us she didn’t build her career around chasing hits; the hits came because she laid the foundations herself. Haters can fling bad vibes, but she’ll keep spinning catchy hooks that even their mothers hum. “BIZCOCHITO” celebrates fearless self-confidence, Latin and K-beauty flair, and the thrill of dancing over anyone’s doubts—all wrapped in a bite-sized reggaeton-pop beat that’s anything but cookie-cutter.
Rosalía and Travis Scott turn their collab into a high-energy oath of loyalty. In TKN the Spanish star crowns herself “la mamá,” the matriarch who keeps her crew tight and silent. References to “capos,” “omertá,” and the video-game-like title (a wink at Tekken) set a cinematic, mafia-meets-street-fighter mood: no outsiders, no loose lips, just family. Rosalía’s rapid-fire Spanish lines lay down the rules, while Travis glides in with English verses that echo the same message—he wants the thrill, the luxury, even the romance, but only if secrecy is guaranteed.
The lyrics paint a world of diamond-bright swagger and strict codes: VVS chains, all-black outfits, tattoos up to the neck, and Gaspar Noé-style close-ups. Under the flash, though, is a warning: break the circle and you’re out. By the end, the chant “Ni un amigo nuevo, ni una hería” (“No new friends, no new wounds”) becomes a mantra that blends family pride, street power, and fierce independence—a beat-driven reminder that trust is priceless, and protection can sound this catchy.