Learn Spanish With ROSALÍA with these 23 Song Recommendations (Full Translations Included!)
In La Perla, Spain’s boundary-pushing ROSALÍA teams up with Mexican trio Yahritza Y Su Esencia to roast a smooth-talking playboy who shines like a precious pearl but cuts like broken glass. Across biting metaphors and playful Spanglish, the singers sketch a man who dazzles everyone with charm, money he doesn’t have, and an ego the size of the universe. Yet under the glitter lies a “terrorista emocional”: a serial heart-breaker who borrows everything, returns nothing, and blames even his own doppelgänger for the mess he leaves behind.
The song flips the classic love ballad on its head. Instead of swooning, the voices unite in a witty intervention that shouts out every red flag—dishonesty, disloyalty, ghosting, even a trophy collection of stolen bras. By the end, the so-called pearl is exposed as fool’s gold, and listeners are warned to steer clear of anyone who sparkles too hard to be true. Catchy, dramatic, and full of attitude, La Perla is a musical PSA that trusting the wrong shine can cost you your peace of mind.
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.
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.
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.
Reliquia feels like a whirlwind travel diary where ROSALÍA pins pieces of her soul to every city she visits. From losing her hands in Jerez to misplacing her smile in the U.K., each lyric shows how life on the road chips away at her senses, habits and memories. Yet she sings with playful pride, almost collecting these losses as souvenirs. The refrain "Seré tu reliquia" ("I will be your relic") flips the idea of damage into devotion: the fragments she surrenders become treasured keepsakes for the listener.
Under the globe-trotting imagery lies a deeper message about generosity and resilience. No matter what she sacrifices—faith in D.C., love in Madrid, or patience in Berlin—ROSALÍA’s heart remains open, ready to give again. The song reminds us that identity can be scattered across continents, but purity and courage are still within reach, growing back like hair after an impulsive cut. Reliquia celebrates imperfection, turning every scar and lost moment into proof of a life lived boldly and shared freely.
ROSALÍA plunges listeners into a vivid tug-of-war between Earthly thrills and Heavenly calm. The verses paint the ground level with roaring tires, raw desire, violence, and greed, then instantly lift us to skies filled with halos, doves, and grace. By repeating “Quién pudiera vivir entre los dos” she wonders who could ever stand in the middle, loving the mess of the world first and still finding room to love God afterward.
The song becomes a meditation on human duality. ROSALÍA celebrates gritty sensations—“sexo, violencia y llantas”—yet dreams of spiritual light where balance and forgiveness reign. Rather than choosing one side, she invites us to embrace both: taste the adrenaline of life, acknowledge its darkness, and still reach for something purer. It is an anthem for anyone who feels caught between passion and peace, city streets and sacred silence, rubber-burning reality and the quiet pull of the divine.
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.
Ever wondered what a funeral could feel like a block-party? Magnolias invites us to watch ROSALÍA stage her own farewell, swapping tears for roaring KTM engines, red wine, gasoline and fistfuls of sweet-smelling flowers. She sings from inside her imaginary coffin, playfully asking friends and even enemies to shower her with magnolias while they dance, smoke cigars and melt rubber in her honor. The usual gloom of death is flipped into a vivid, cinematic spectacle where luxury cars glide by, chocolate mixes with tears, and the beat insists that life is meant to be lived ‑- and celebrated ‑- to the fullest.
Beneath the flashy visuals, ROSALÍA offers a spiritual wink. She pictures God descending while she ascends, turning her body to stardust so she can reunite with the cosmos. The message: death is not the end, it is another transformation. By asking listeners to protect her name in her absence, she reminds us that legacy matters as much as life itself. Magnolias is therefore a rebellious, flamenco-tinted anthem about embracing mortality with gratitude, turning grief into fiesta and ensuring our stories keep blooming long after we are gone.
In “Sauvignon Blanc,” ROSALÍA raises a glass to a fresh start. She sets fire to status symbols like a Rolls-Royce, tosses out her Jimmy Choos, and lets her porcelain crash, all to prove that love and inner peace outshine any luxury item. With each discarded treasure she tells us that true capital is the affection she shares with someone special. The crisp, pale wine of the title becomes her ritual of release: every sip washes away fears of the past that now sink to the bottom of the glass.
The song bubbles with optimism. By trusting in a higher power, betting on love, and daring to shed material excess, she envisions a “futuro dorado” – a golden future – at her partner’s side. Sauvignon Blanc is both a celebratory toast and a cleansing elixir, reminding listeners that when you have nothing left to lose, you finally gain the freedom to live light, love deeply, and shine brighter than any luxury ever could.
“Dios Es Un Stalker” turns the idea of divine love on its head. ROSALÍA imagines God as a playful, almost obsessive admirer who quietly follows every step of a love interest — like a cosmic “lurker” on social media. Lines such as “Yo te sigo, tú improvisa” paint a picture of an all-seeing presence that slips into every corner of someone’s life, from the gentle breeze on their hair to the secrets of their “deseos indeseables.” It is equal parts romantic, humorous, and unsettling, mixing sacred imagery with the modern slang of online stalking to show how devotion can blur into fixation.
Beneath the cheeky concept lies a deeper reflection on power and vulnerability. The narrator boasts of omnipresence (“dueña del mundo y de las ideas”), yet admits exhaustion from being everywhere at once. By flipping traditional roles — the divine chases, the mortal is chased — ROSALÍA questions who truly holds control in a relationship driven by longing. The result is a vibrant, tongue-in-cheek anthem that asks: when passion becomes all-seeing, is it still love or something more possessive?
Welcome to “Berghain,” a pulsating plunge into the famous Berlin club where boundaries blur and emotions fuse. Switching between German, Spanish, and English, ROSALÍA teams up with Björk and Yves Tumor to paint a picture of radical empathy: “Seine Angst ist meine Angst” — “His fear is my fear.” The repeated lines show how two people can merge so completely that their fear, rage, love, and even blood feel shared. Over pounding beats, the lyrics compare that union to a glowing flame in the brain and a lead-heavy teddy bear in the heart, hinting at passion that is at once comforting and crushing.
But the track is not all tenderness; it is also raw desire and spiritual urgency. ROSALÍA calls herself a melting sugar cube, ready to vanish the moment her lover arrives, while Björk’s voice declares that only divine intervention can save them. Yves Tumor’s provocative refrain pushes the intensity further: “I’ll fuck you till you love me.” Together they create a dark love mantra where club euphoria, bodily craving, and mystical salvation collide—mirroring Berghain’s own mix of hedonism and transcendence. Spin this song and step into a world where dancefloor heat and existential longing meet in one electrifying heartbeat.
“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.
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.
“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.
“BULERÍAS” is Rosalía’s power-packed declaration of self-worth and artistic freedom. Over the beat of a flamenco bulería, she looks back on her rise and proudly states she never betrayed herself to get here. Whether she is in a glittering dancer’s dress or a Versace tracksuit, her voice carries the same fire. Every whispered criticism or “puñalá” behind her back only fuels her rage-turned-art, proving that hard work 24/7 and staying true to one’s roots can coexist with bold experimentation.
The song is also a love letter to the icons who shaped her: flamenco greats like Pastori, El Cigala’s partner José Mercé, and trailblazing rappers such as Lil’ Kim, Tego Calderón, and M.I.A. By name-checking them alongside her own family and “la libertad,” Rosalía shows how tradition, hip hop swagger, and personal rebellion weave together in her music. “BULERÍAS” reminds listeners that even without money or backing, the urge to sing—the pure need to express—can light up a stage and silence every doubter.
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.
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.
ROSALÍA’s “Mundo Nuevo” feels like a short, powerful wish cast into the universe. In just a few lines, she confesses a deep weariness with “este mundo por entero” and dreams of renegar – turning her back on everything familiar – to start over somewhere fresh. The repeated plea to “volver de nuevo a habitar” paints a picture of spiritual reboot: a chance to walk into a brand-new reality and finally find “más verdad,” more truth, than the current world can offer.
Though the lyrics are minimal, they burst with emotion. ROSALÍA balances melancholy with hope, inviting us to imagine what a “mundo nuevo” might look like: a place where disappointments are left behind and authenticity reigns. Her voice becomes both a lament and a spark of optimism, reminding listeners that the desire to break free and rediscover genuine meaning is universal—and sometimes, singing it out loud is the first step toward making that new world real.
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.
“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.
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.
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.