Disparos fires straight into that dangerous moment when attraction strikes like a sudden blast of heat. The singer recalls the instant pull of someone whose every glance feels like a bullet, knocking down his defenses and yanking him out of the comfortable fiction he once lived in. He sees the trap, knows the game is stacked against him, yet he stays to “negotiate” and ends up confessing that he is the willing loser, helpless against lips that feel addictive and moves that can command his every step.
The repeated chorus is a loud, rhythmic admission of vulnerability: each disparo al aire – each flirtatious shot – leaves him exposed but electrified, because he hates falling behind more than getting hurt. What follows is a thrilling mix of guilt, surrender, and excitement, capturing the bittersweet rush of choosing to stand in love’s line of fire. Dani Fernández turns this personal confession into an anthem for anyone who has ever fallen hard, fast, and against every piece of good advice.