
La Mitad pairs Colombian pop sensation Camilo with Mexican star Christian Nodal for a heartfelt confession of selfless love. The singer imagines the painful day destiny might pull them apart, picturing himself changing “heads” just to stop thinking about her. He is willing to congratulate the new suitor, offer friendly advice, even tip his hat if she is showered with roses, kisses, and affection.
Yet beneath that generous smile lies an unshakable truth: no matter how perfect the new romance looks, no one will ever love her even half as much as he does. The track balances playful humor with raw vulnerability, turning a simple what-if scenario into a catchy pop anthem about devotion so deep it refuses to be eclipsed.
“Por Primera Vez” captures that magical instant when love turns everyday moments into dazzling firsts. Camilo and Evaluna Montaner sing about waking up next to someone and feeling reborn, as if the sunrise itself is happening inside their hearts. The lyrics blend tender vulnerability—“tengo miedo que busques a alguien perfecto”—with total devotion, promising kisses never given and words of affection yet to be spoken. Every dawn becomes a celebration because, for the very first time, the singers have exactly what they “want and need.”
Underneath the catchy pop melody beats a simple truth: real love makes life make sense. The song paints pictures of soft mornings, sky-high dreams, and the joy of finding a partner who turns fear into gratitude. When Camilo repeats that he would wait “una y mil veces” just to see Evaluna wake up, we feel the power of patience and commitment. “Por Primera Vez” is a joyful reminder that the right person can make us feel brand-new—again and again, every single morning.
Camilo invites us into a world where the real treasure is affection, not fortune. In this upbeat pop tune, the Colombian singer admits he cannot offer nightclubs, cars, or diamonds, yet he promises something far more satisfying: endless kisses, close-up dancing, and an ice-cold beer by the beach. The chorus sums it up: no es vida de rico, pero se pasa bien rico ‑ it might not be a rich life, but it sure feels rich.
The song is a joyful celebration of humble love and unshakable optimism. Camilo paints vivid scenes of swapping champagne for cervecita, cooling down with a simple fan when the house lacks air conditioning, and watching the sunset from a modest balcony that, through love-tinted glasses, looks as grand as Europe. Every line reminds us that true happiness is counted in shared moments rather than money, and that everything he does have, from his heart to his dreams of one day buying a house with a pool, belongs entirely to the one he loves.
Camilo and Pedro Capó turn a simple, catchy chorus into a full-on celebration of head-over-heels love. “Tutu” is basically a joyous confession: the singer admits he is no expert in poetry or philosophy, yet he is absolutely sure he wants this person by his side. Every line bubbles with playful images — from cuddling up when the air-con is set way too cold to syncing online “like YouTube” and connecting “like Bluetooth.” It is a fun reminder that real passion does not need fancy words; it just needs genuine, unstoppable feeling.
At its core, the song repeats one irresistible idea: “No hay nadie como tú” (there is no one like you). The nickname “Tutu” sounds like a sweet playground chant, but it carries a serious promise: there is no substitute, no replacement, no exit plan. With tropical pop rhythms and light humor, the singers paint love as a modern spell: she is the voodoo doll, he is the needle, and together they create magic. The result is an upbeat anthem for anyone who has ever wanted to shout to the world that their special someone is truly one of a kind.
“Manos de Tijera” turns heartbreak into vivid poetry. Camilo imagines the sky itself bursting into tears the moment his lover leaves, setting a dramatic scene for a confession filled with regret and longing. He remembers their first meeting—her hair down, his mission to make her laugh—and admits he tried to break old habits but fell short. Now he wonders if she still aches the way he does, because he can’t even breathe without her.
The title, which literally means “Scissor Hands,” hints at how abruptly love can be cut off. Camilo relives shared trips, deleted emojis, future birthdays sung by strangers, and the fear of seeing her in someone else’s arms. Through catchy melodies and heartfelt lyrics, he shows the bittersweet truth of love: you can’t control time’s one-way road, but you can own your feelings and say, “I’m not perfect, I’m sorry, and I still believe in what we had.”
Camilo’s “Medialuna” is a sweet confession of nervous, child-like love. The singer is about to meet someone special again, and his heart is racing: he rehearses jokes in the mirror, buys candy, and fixes his hair just the way they like it. In Spanish, media luna means half-moon, a soft light in the night sky. In the song that half-moon is the person who gently brightens everything around him. Even though life was not completely dark, empty, or damaged, her presence still makes it brighter, fuller, and healed.
Love turns the narrator into a kid again. The moment she looks at him, his defenses fall, and when she kisses him, he feels reborn. The lyrics celebrate the magical power of affection to make us feel innocent, fragile, and wonderfully alive, as if we are seeing the world for the very first time.
Tuyo Y Mío spins a warm Norteño tale of unwavering love and gratitude. Camilo and Los Dos Carnales paint the picture of a woman who never hid behind her partner; she walked ahead, clearing the path when money was scarce and dreams felt distant. Her quiet strength, pretending not to notice his struggles, inspires him to wake up each morning ready to hustle so that “nothing will ever be missing” for her.
The song then looks toward the future: growing old together, sharing every sunrise, and imagining “un hijo tuyo y mío.” With lively accordions and rustic harmonies, this duet becomes both a love letter and a promise that real wealth lies in loyalty, shared dreams, and the beautiful life they will build side by side.
Una Vida Pasada pulses with vibrant salsa energy while telling a story of love that feels timeless. Camilo and Carin León sing from the perspective of someone who thought they had moved on, only to admit that their heart and mind still orbit an unforgettable partner. Memories flood every idle moment: staring at the ceiling, slipping into daydreams, and remembering how effortlessly they once communicated without words. The singers paint their romance as so perfect that it must have started in another life, making the present separation feel almost unnatural.
A striking image runs through the lyrics: the narrator’s own hands become the villains. He blames them for letting his lover go, even threatening to cut them off because they can no longer touch what they crave. This vivid metaphor captures the depth of regret and longing, contrasting sharply with the song’s upbeat percussion and brass. Una Vida Pasada invites listeners to dance while reflecting on the bittersweet truth that some connections seem written in the stars, and losing them hurts down to the fingertips.
Camilo’s "KESI" is a vibrant Colombian love confession where the singer can’t hold back his excitement. He keeps imagining how perfect life would be if the girl he adores finally said “yes.” Each chorus is a playful plea: “Si tú me dices ahorita que me quieres a tu lado… yo te besaría” (If you told me right now that you want me by your side… I’d kiss you). He’s smitten by her natural beauty, loves that she doesn’t “photoshop” herself, and day-dreams about sharing a closet together. Yet, despite all his energy—he’s “more intense than a kid with a ball”—she still hasn’t given him that magical answer.
The catchy, tropical beat mirrors Camilo’s hopeful heartbeat, turning the song into a joyous chase for love. "KESI" invites listeners to feel the exhilaration of almost having everything you want, teaching us the Spanish way to ask for that long-awaited sí while dancing the waiting game with a smile.
“Favorito” is Camilo’s joyful love declaration, dressed up in catchy pop rhythms and Colombian warmth. The singer paints a vivid picture of having tasted the world’s most luxurious foods and visited the most exotic destinations, only to realize that nothing compares to the simple, everyday magic of his partner. Her body becomes his favorite place and her kiss his favorite meal, proving that true treasure is not found in fancy restaurants or far-flung adventures but in the intimacy of genuine affection.
Beyond the playful metaphors, the song celebrates mutual need and authentic beauty. Camilo dismisses rigid beauty standards (“90-60-90”) and longs to be loved when he feels handsome and when he feels imperfect. He invites his partner to exaggerate her love the way he does, highlighting the fun, over-the-top devotion that powers their bond. Ultimately, “Favorito” is a feel-good anthem that reminds listeners that real luxury is sharing everyday life with the person who sees you, needs you and loves you just as you are.
“Millones” is a bright pop love letter to that dizzying moment when love makes you ask, “Why me?”. Camilo marvels that, out of millions of people, his partner chose him. In playful metaphors he calls her an engineer for building the perfect bridge between their lips and a surgeon for healing his aching heart. Over upbeat rhythms he happily lists the silly sacrifices he makes—watching shows he dislikes, ordering her favorite food, even freezing under the air-con—just to see her smile.
At its core, the song is a grateful confession. Camilo repeats the question “¿Por qué yo?” not because he doubts her choice, but because her love turns an ordinary guy into someone who feels extraordinary. The message is clear: real connection is less about perfection and more about finding the one person who laughs at your bad jokes, lifts your self-esteem, and chooses you again and again.
Sálvame is an impassioned SOS wrapped in Caribbean brass and bongo grooves. Mexican singer Camilo teams up with Cuban powerhouse Alexander Abreu and his band Havana D'Primera to turn raw heartbreak into a dance floor confession. The lyrics paint a sleepless night where anxiety tightens the throat, memories refuse to leave, and the heart slowly loses faith. Over blazing trumpets he pleads, "Sálvame de la soledad… no me dejes caer jamás", begging his lost love to rescue him from the shadows.
At its core the song reminds us that love can be both lifeline and torment. Camilo's voice pleads for salvation, Abreu's trumpet replies with flashes of hope, and the salsa beat insists we keep moving even while our hearts ache. The contrast is the message: when loneliness feels endless, music and dance can still pull us back toward the light.
PLIS is a sweet and playful love anthem in which Mexican singer Camilo and his wife, Venezuelan-Argentine artist Evaluna Montaner, dream out loud about dropping everything for a life of seaside simplicity. The word plis (a Spanish-style spelling of “please”) sets the tone: the couple politely but eagerly asks each other to escape routine, because being together is all that really matters. Camilo admits he is full of flaws, yet those imperfections feel tiny next to the giant love he feels. Their house is “full of cracks,” not from trouble but from a love so big it can barely be contained.
Instead of chasing status or possessions, they are willing to sell it all, learn architecture if needed, and literally build sandcastles as their dream home. The future is peeking around the corner, so why wait? With massages, braids, ten future kids, and endless beach days, the song paints a carefree picture where contigo no me falta nada — “with you I lack nothing.” In short, PLIS celebrates choosing love and togetherness over perfection and material things, inviting listeners to imagine their own “lugar feliz” by the sea.
Have you ever felt a breakup so intense that even sharing the same room feels suffocating? El Mismo Aire paints that exact moment. Camilo and Pablo Alborán take us from fever-pitch passion to chilling distance, showing how two people who once “lived mouth to mouth” end up unable to “breathe the same air.” Through vivid snapshots—burning love letters, erasing a phone number, tossing notebooks—the song reveals a desperate attempt to erase every trace of a love that can’t be revived.
Yet beneath the heartbreak there is tenderness. The narrator chooses to leave, but he packs the best souvenir: time itself, “el tiempo que pasé contigo, que no fue perdido.” In just a few minutes, this pop gem captures the full arc of a relationship, reminding us that even when love turns to silence, the memories stay defiantly alive.
Rolex is not just a catchy Latin pop track; it is a playful love-letter to living right now. Camilo teams up with Mau y Ricky to paint a picture where every second with that special someone feels like a mini-vacation. From snapping photos so the happiness never fades to tossing away a luxury watch, the singers show that no price tag can compete with the joy of an unending kiss. Even an ordinary weekday suddenly glitters like the weekend when you are with the right person.
At its core, the song is an urgent plea to freeze time. The chorus begs, “Por si acaso esta es la última vez” (“In case this is the last time”), reminding us that tomorrow is never guaranteed. Plans get canceled, clocks get ignored, and deep breaths are postponed just to stay wrapped up in the moment. Rolex celebrates the delicious mix of spontaneity and romance, urging listeners to ditch the schedule, hold their loved ones tight, and make every heartbeat count.
“BEBÉ” is a heartbreak confession wrapped in a tropical dance floor groove. Camilo wakes up to the cold side of the bed and scrolls through photos that now feel like tiny stabs, asking his lost love again and again: “Dime por qué te fuiste, bebé.” He is not looking for a new adventure; he just wants her back, right where the warmth used to be.
Enter Dominican superstar El Alfa, and the temperature rises even while the yearning stays. He calls her tesoro, perla y diamante, admitting he skips meals, dodges friends and would fly to her in a heartbeat. The contrasting mix of playful dembow beat and aching lyrics turns the song into a bittersweet anthem: you may be dancing, but every step is fueled by the hope that the one you love will press “call” and come running home.
Camilo’s “La Boda” is a jubilant love letter set to music. From the very first glance, the singer feels gravity flip: the moon becomes his role model, content to orbit endlessly around the woman who has changed everything. He tells us the ground itself vanishes beneath him, because nothing feels the same once she appears. In a crowd she shines different, and destiny practically shoves him toward her.
Fast-forward to their wedding day and the lyrics burst with celebration. Camilo can’t believe he is walking into church with his friends, waiting to see her stroll down the aisle in her dress. He dreams of building a home, filling it with children, and loving her “de mil maneras” for the rest of his life. Even death, he insists, cannot undo what God has joined. “La Boda” is joyful proof that when love feels this undeniable, every love song makes sense and forever suddenly sounds perfectly reasonable.
Ready for a whirlwind of Latin pop romance? In “Machu Picchu,” Colombian singer-songwriter Camilo teams up with his wife, Venezuelan artist Evaluna Montaner, to celebrate that crazy moment when you realize someone adores you exactly as you are. Comparing her emotional “ruins” to the legendary Incan citadel, Evaluna playfully labels herself “más ruinas que Machu Picchu,” while Camilo admits he must be even “más loco” for sticking around. The song turns self-doubt into a charming love confession: “How did I end up next to you, in my bed?” They marvel at the magic that let love bloom without masks, costumes, or filters.
Under the catchy folk-pop beat and joyful handclaps lies a message of unconditional acceptance. The couple poke fun at their own imperfections, yet keep repeating the heart-racing question: “Ay, dime qué viste cuando me viste.” Why? Because sometimes love feels like an archaeological mystery—one partner sees treasure where the other sees rubble. “Machu Picchu” reminds us that the right person won’t just visit our ruins; they’ll build a home there, dancing happily among the stones. So press play, sing along, and celebrate the beautiful madness of being loved for the real, perfectly imperfect you!
“No Te Vayas” is Camilo’s sparkling love-letter to that special someone he just can’t live without. The Colombian singer paints a scene of joyful urgency: he is seconds away from reuniting with his partner, and every moment apart has felt like “an eternity.” Camilo is ready to “tirar la casa por la ventana” (literally “throw the house through the window,” a Spanish idiom for going all out) to celebrate their return. The lyrics bubble with plans for an all-night party, but the real focus is intimacy—locking the door, shutting out the morning light, and soaking in each other’s warmth and scent.
At its heart, the song is a playful plea: “Ay, no te vayas” (“Oh, don’t go”). Camilo lists every reason for his lover to stay—he misses her, she misses him, the neighbors can handle the party outside while they handle their own behind closed doors. Beneath the catchy beat lies a universal message of devotion and longing, wrapped in the joyful, tropical pop sound that has made Camilo a global favorite.
“Pesadilla” (Spanish for Nightmare) is Camilo’s playful confession of jealousy and relief. In a vivid dream, he watches another man steal a kiss from his girlfriend, and the pain feels all too real. He wakes up sweating, angry, and ready to fight for his love… only to realize it was just a nightmare. That discovery flips his panic into pure joy, and he decides to throw a lively party to celebrate that his “baby” is still his.
Through catchy rhythms and witty lyrics, Camilo mixes drama with humor: tequila to stay awake, name-dropping boxer Canelo as if gearing up for a dream-world showdown, and rallying friends, cousins, and even aunts for an all-night fiesta. The message is simple and sweet—even in his wildest dreams, no one can take her away.
Ring, ring, ring – the church bells echo through the night, letting everyone know there are only five minutes left until midnight. Camilo paints the scene of New Year’s Eve in Latin America: fireworks crackle, friends celebrate, yet his heart pulls him away from the party and straight toward home. Why? Because nothing feels more important than wrapping his arms around the woman who gave him life: his mamá.
With joyful urgency, the song captures a mix of festive excitement and tender nostalgia. Camilo revives a beloved holiday classic and turns it into a warm tribute to family, tradition, and gratitude. In those last precious seconds of the year, the singer reminds us that the loudest celebration is not in the streets but in a mother’s embrace, sending listeners sprinting—at least in their imagination—back to the place where love began.
How are you supposed to live a normal life when the person who gave it meaning is gone? That is the big question Camilo wrestles with in 5:24, a heartbreak anthem that begins with a simple greeting, “¿Qué más, cómo va la vida?” and spirals into the raw confession, “¿Cuál vida?” The Colombian singer turns everyday small talk into a gut-punch, describing how his world froze the moment his partner left. Over gentle guitar and Camilo’s unmistakable voice, the lyrics paint loneliness in high-definition: therapy sessions three times a week, winter that refuses to end, and a mounting collection of shelved dreams that now need “a hard drive” to store them.
Camilo’s trademark wordplay keeps the song engaging even in its sadness. He compares himself to “an eagle without wings,” “salt that doesn’t salt,” and a “bulletproof vest that doesn’t stop bullets,” capturing the feeling of being useless without the one he loves. Even the idea of reincarnation suddenly sounds appealing, because it might offer another chance to be together. 5:24 is both cathartic and relatable, reminding listeners that missing someone is not just about the other person, it is about missing the part of yourself that left with them.