
Turn it up! In this infectious Latin Urbano track, Spain’s Enrique Iglesias joins forces with Descemer Bueno plus Zion & Lennox to transform heartbreak into a fiesta. The chorus, súbeme la radio, is a rallying cry to pump up the volume, feel the booming bass, and let the rhythm take over. Behind the dance-floor energy sits a lovesick narrator who admits that music and a splash of alcohol are the only things that ease the sting of a recent breakup.
Across the verses he paces through sleepless nights, waits outside his ex’s door, and dreams of reuniting the luna and the sol—a poetic way of saying he wants their worlds back together. The song balances sorrow and celebration: every beat is a distraction, every sip a temporary cure, and every shouted lyric a desperate hope that love will return. It’s a perfect lesson in how Latin music can turn pain into a party while keeping the emotions real and relatable.
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.
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.
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 “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.
Get ready for a night of neon lights, pounding reggaetón beats and feline confidence. In “GATÚBELA,” Colombian powerhouse KAROL G slips into her inner Catwoman, purring with playful desire while letting everyone know she is in total control of the chase. She sings about being “loca por probarte”—eager to taste a new romance—yet she keeps her independence firmly intact, teasing “Ojalá puedas quedarte, porque así me quedo yo” (I hope you can stay, because that way I’ll stay too). The result is a flirtatious dance-floor fantasy where freedom and raw attraction intertwine.
When veteran reggaetón voice Maldy jumps in, the heat rises. His verse mirrors her energy, praising her bold sensuality and inviting her to an unrestrained perreo session. Together they paint a picture of mutual consent and empowered sexuality: two equals trading compliments, confident moves and electrifying chemistry. At its core, the song celebrates owning your desires without apology—so turn up the volume and let your inner gatúbela prowl.
“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.
Dícelo is a heartfelt Latin Urbano duet where Jay Wheeler and Zhamira Zambrano confess the raw loneliness that creeps in after a breakup. Each singer takes a verse, describing empty spaces on the bed, unfinished TV series, and the restless nights that follow when your favorite person is suddenly gone. The hook is simple yet powerful: they are too afraid to reach out themselves, so they beg a friend to “díselo” – tell the ex that the door is still wide open, that the tears are nightly, and that life just does not feel complete without them.
Behind the catchy reggaetón beat and smooth vocal blend, the song paints a relatable picture of post-breakup vulnerability. It captures that tug-of-war between pride and longing, the urge to heal versus the need to be together again. If you have ever stared at your phone wondering whether to send that risky late-night message, this track will feel like your diary set to music. Listen for the conversational lyrics, switch between perspectives, and the repeated plea “díselo” that turns a private ache into a universal anthem of love and hope.
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.
“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.
TUYA is Rosalía in full power-mode: the Spanish superstar steps onto the track with unshakable confidence, claiming she can turn every fantasy into reality. The lyrics paint her as a charismatic force who gets what she wants sin perdón y sin permiso, then playfully warns her admirer to keep up. For one explosive night, ownership switches back and forth — “Sólo esta noche soy tuya… sólo esta noche eres mío” — turning passion into a game of tag where both players win.
Beyond the sultry surface, the song celebrates freedom, self-assurance, and living in the now. References to Judas, divine intervention, and Renaissance sculpture mix sacred with sensual, showing how Rosalía revels in contrasts. She casts herself as a lucky charm, a devilish muse, and a work of art all at once, inviting her lover to share the thrill of being “dos loquitos” caught in irresistible chemistry. In short, TUYA is a high-energy ode to desire, bravado, and the electric magic of a single unforgettable night.
Canción Para Ellas celebrates a woman who has finally shut the door on a draining relationship and stepped into her own spotlight. Jay Wheeler paints her Friday-night freedom in vivid colors: she tosses her watch aside, stuffs a couple of condoms in her purse, rolls a few Phillies, and heads out with her best friend. The dance floor becomes her personal territory—she moves solo, unapologetic, and immune to anyone who might try to rein her in. Every lyric is a snapshot of her reclaiming time, body, and emotions, declaring to the world (and herself) that heartbreak no longer runs the show.
More than just a party anthem, the song is a toast to self-love and independence. By canceling Cupid and freezing old feelings, the protagonist flips pain into empowerment, proving that healing can sound like reggaetón drums and late-night laughter. Jay Wheeler’s smooth vocals and Latin Urbano vibe turn her story into a catchy manifesto for anyone ready to dance their way past an ex and into a brand-new chapter.
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.
Luces lights up a classic party-night story: Paulo Londra spots the girl he has secretly liked since they were kids, and this time he refuses to stay silent. The club is buzzing, the drinks flow and—most importantly—the DJ can kill the lights so everyone else fades into the background. Paulo owns his newfound confidence, asking the "bobo" (the clueless new boyfriend) to step aside while he turns a once-missed chance into a bold move. What began as years of shyness transforms into a charged face-off on the dance floor, fueled by adrenaline and a little alcohol.
Beneath the swagger, the song is about redemption and second chances. Paulo admits he once disappointed her, sank into gloom, then found hope the moment he saw her dancing again. Now he is determined to rewrite their story: if the DJ cooperates, if the rival backs off, they can vanish together “para donde sea” and start fresh. With its catchy beat, playful Argentine slang and confident lyrics, "Luces" captures that electrifying moment when courage finally outshines regret.
Ready for a sonic getaway? "Nos Fuimos Lejos" is Enrique Iglesias’s invitation to ditch reality, grab your favorite person and soar into a night that feels endless. Fueled by Descemer Bueno’s smooth vocals and El Micha’s playful rap, the track paints love as a wild flight: they start on the ground and then lift off, carried by rhythmic Latin urbano beats. Every kiss is a sip of bottled passion, every touch a button that launches them higher, until they are drunk on affection and lost in each other’s universe.
More than a party anthem, the song celebrates surrendering to pure feeling. No luggage, no customs, no brakes - just the liberating rush of following desire wherever it leads. It is a reminder that when chemistry is this electric, you don’t walk, you fly… and you never want the night to land. 🚀💃