
Cruz Cafuné and Sofi de la Torre's "Doble Tick Azul" is a really relatable song about the pain of a breakup and trying to move on when you're still hung up on someone. The title itself, "Doble Tick Azul" (double blue tick), refers to the read receipts on messaging apps, instantly setting the scene for unread messages and unanswered calls. He sings, "Llamé ayer y antes de ayer / No respondiste" (I called yesterday and the day before / You didn't answer), which perfectly captures that frustrating feeling of being ignored.
He's clearly struggling, admitting, "Esta es la última canción que te escribo, jurao'" (This is the last song I'm writing for you, I swear), but then immediately follows it with "Te quiero" (I love you), showing how conflicted he is. He's trying to erase her from his life, saying, "Borré tu nombre del teléfono / Saqué tu foto de la cartera" (I deleted your name from my phone / I took your photo out of my wallet). But it's not just his own feelings he's dealing with; his friends and family are worried, and her family is still reaching out, making it even harder to forget. He even says, "Soy un corazón roto" (I am a broken heart), which is such a direct and honest way to put it. It's a raw look at the messy process of heartbreak.
Cruz Cafuné's "Cuando Estoy Mal" is a relatable anthem about fair-weather friends. He feels like his phone is broken, saying "Nadie me checkea cuando estoy mal" [Nobody checks on me when I'm bad] because when he's down, no one is around. It's like he's "sin megas" [without data] and can't connect with anyone.
He points out that people only want to be around for the good times: "Solo quieren verme vacilar / Cuando hay party, cuando hay money cuando, hay tal" [They only want to see me have fun / When there's a party, when there's money, when there's this or that]. But when problems hit, everyone runs. He feels like he only has a few true friends left, and even one of them "se fue pa' Senegal" [went to Senegal]. It's a blunt look at how loneliness can feel even when you're surrounded by people who claim to be there for you.
Cruz Cafuné's "Guaguancó" is a heartfelt, melancholic serenade to a lost love, filled with vivid imagery of the ocean and a deep sense of longing. The singer pours out his sorrow, lamenting, "Le lloré a la playa cuando desapareciste" [I cried to the beach when you disappeared], as the tide erases any trace of her. He's left on the shore, clutching a cowrie shell necklace he once gave her, a symbol of their past that she rejected when he messed up. He keeps returning to the beach, holding onto the hope that she might come back, asking, "¿allá lejitos tienes playa?" [do you have a beach far away?], still caring about her well-being even though they're apart.
This "Guaguancó" is described as a "canción de ojalás, de pena y olvido" [song of 'I wish,' of sorrow and forgetting]. It's a deeply personal confession, revealing he wrote it "oyéndote llorar cuando fingí estar dormido" [hearing you cry when I pretended to be asleep]. Now, without her, his tears are saltier, the moon feels empty, and mornings are colder. He recalls her sudden departure, arriving in his life one night and leaving with the birds singing. The song captures the bittersweet pain of a love that couldn't be, marked by broken promises and a desperate, drunken sing-along to numb the pain, hoping she'll hear him from afar.
Cruz Cafuné and Leïti spend this song caught between two moods: living large and missing someone.
The verses paint a fast, wealthy lifestyle — riding in a Suburban LT, a sold-out merch line, a room at the Abama resort, seventy-band paydays. It is a victory lap, and the artist has no patience for the haters who will keep talking regardless.
But the song's real center is quieter. Twice the hook turns away from the flexing to something more fragile: save the chats and the videos, because if he dies tomorrow, he wants her to still be able to hear his voice. Underneath the bravado is someone thinking about mortality and holding on to a memory of a woman whose perfume still lingers on a pillow.
"G WAGON" is a flex track from Cruz Cafuné, made together with La Pantera. The two rappers trade lines about the cars they drive, the jewelry they wear, and the lifestyle their music has bought them, all set against a tinted-window G Wagon rolling through the city.
Underneath the boasting there's a story of where Cruz Cafuné came from. He looks back on a hard start, a friend's death at 22 that pushed him into "the business," and a neighborhood that now knows his name. The song contrasts that past with where he is today: recording gold and platinum records, and having people recognize him wherever he lands.
The hook keeps circling back to one image: when the crew's convoy stops, people can't see through the tinted glass, and everyone outside is left guessing and jealous, wishing they could sit with them.
"Corintios 13:12" takes its title from 1 Corinthians 13:12, the Bible verse about seeing life "through a glass, darkly." It's not a religious song. That verse gives its name to Cruz Cafune's own crew, and the reference becomes their calling card, right down to the dog-eared page he mentions near the end.
Over the track he raps about flexing designer luggage, a chauffeured Range Rover, Harrods shopping trips, a bulletproof GLS 600 and enough Jordans to fill a closet, closing out his verses on his crew and his family.
Westside Gunn's guest verse switches scenes completely, to dealing on the corner, guns, designer streetwear and a "we all got Glocks" hook about staying loyal to your own crew when things get dangerous. Both halves are ultimately about the same thing: flexing status and staying alive, just from very different sides of the world.
Cruz Cafuné raps about tasting real success and still feeling like an outsider proving himself. He compares his rise to famous names in music and sport, and pictures himself surrounded by luxury, women, and doubters who never saw it coming.
Underneath the bragging, he opens up about why he keeps pushing: chasing that feeling of being fully alive, even though it never lasts long enough. He grinds harder just to feel it again, whether he's spending money, making music, or celebrating a win.
The title comes from the hook: if he got a euro for every time a jealous critic acted up, or every time he pulled off something people doubted, he'd never have to worry about money again. It's a cocky way of saying his success speaks for itself.
This song is about how close friendships and situationships blend together once social media gets involved. The narrator watches someone obsess over an ex's photos and "Close Friends" story, noticing how blocking and cropping people out has become a normal part of breaking up.
Nobody in the group wants to be alone, so friends end up hooking up with friends, sending an Uber to whoever answers first, and losing track of which memory belongs to which person. Underneath the party lifestyle is a quieter point: this group looks tight from the outside, but everyone in it is really just avoiding being by themselves.
"Retro 11s" is Cruz Cafuné's bravado-laced breakup song, named after the Jordan Retro 11 sneakers he threatens to have sold off. The opening verses are pure spite: burn the clothes, key the car, spread the story on Twitter if she crosses him. He plays it as a streetwise city boy who already knows every trick in the book and won't be caught off guard.
Underneath the threats, the song is really about being underestimated. He keeps reminding her (and everyone listening) that people around him report back to him, so nothing stays hidden for long. The final lines drop the act completely: a vow of loyalty and respect meant to last until death, the one sincere moment in a song otherwise built on petty revenge.
LUISAVIAROMA is Cruz Cafuné and La Blackie's playful flex about designer clothes, fast money, and a messy on-and-off romance.
The song opens on the luxury shopping site LUISAVIAROMA and keeps circling back to brand names (Skims, Alo Yoga, Clarks, Rolex, Vlone) as shorthand for status and style. Underneath the flex, the verses trade off between two voices, one bragging about being untouchable and busy, the other calling out a partner who never quite shows up.
By the end, the song turns into a string of shout-outs to friends, a lighthearted way to close out the track before it cuts off mid-line.
"Cangrinaje" is Cruz Cafuné's braggadocio anthem about street smarts, hard-won success, and loyalty. He raps about sleeping in an oversized bed and driving expensive cars, all while staying wary of fake friends who only show up once he's made it.
The recurring chorus casts him as a protector: he's clear he isn't anyone's boyfriend or husband, but he'll step in the moment someone disrespects the woman he's with. The verses flex about jewelry, luxury brands like Moncler, and a fast, chaotic lifestyle, mixed with quick flashes of distrust toward people who only want what he has.
The song closes on an English sample, "It's been a long time coming... where I come from," tying his rise back to his roots and the struggle it took to get here.
"Ja Morant" is Cruz Cafuné looking back at how far he's come, waking up to a new day and a new hater every time. He talks about the fast cars, the sold-out tour and the money, but he's honest that the version of himself who had nothing "shitty clothes, no cash" is still close underneath the swagger.
The chorus nods to NBA star Ja Morant's signature celebration, the griddy, as a stand-in for winning and getting paid on his own terms. In between the boasts, he slows down to admit some of last year's choices still cost him sleep, even though he'd make them again.
It's a song about carrying success and old wounds at the same time, staying loyal to the people who were there before any of it, and not forgetting why he started rapping in the first place.
"FAXXXxxx" is Cruz Cafuné bragging about his success in one long, unbroken flex. The title is wordplay: "fax" doubles as "facts" and as the burofax (a certified letter used in Spain for legal notices), so every "puto facts" hook lands like a document he is sending you, proof he can't be argued with.
The verses stack designer labels, cars, and cash: Goyard bags, Burberry, tuned cars, Goldman Sachs investments, Milwaukee Bucks championship rings. He raps about casual hookups and about being untouchable in his career, brushing off anyone who doubts him or wants beef.
Underneath the luxury name-dropping is a simple message: he's built a life nobody can copy or replace, and he's not slowing down from autumn releases to sold-out summer shows.
Get ready for a track dripping with confidence and raw honesty. In "Dios #1," Cruz Cafuné and Miky Woodz lay down their life philosophy: God first, and then an unapologetic drive for success. Cruzzi paints a picture of his life on "cruise control," staying true to himself whether he's flying first class or remembering his days in the back of the plane. He walks with the swagger of a "cowboy," fueled by the very stress that helps him stack his money. For him, authenticity is key—he understands why people are shocked by someone so real, but he has nothing to hide.
Miky Woodz jumps in with the same energy, emphasizing that you have to work hard for what you want and trust only those who are truly there for you. Both artists dismiss the haters and the fakes ("wannabes"), moving in silence while keeping their feet on the ground. The core message is a powerful mix of faith, self-belief, and a relentless hustle. They don't take anything for granted and aren't afraid to call out those who are all talk.
"Sangre Y Fe" ("Blood And Faith") is Cruz Cafuné's tribute to where he comes from and how far he's climbed. He opens the song crediting a higher purpose for putting him on this path, a weight he says can only be carried with "blood and faith," and ties it back to the Canary Islands, the home he still feels calling him back.
From there the song turns into a confident account of his own success. He raps about building his career without record deals, staying independent, and turning early struggles (working as a bricklayer, having no team) into the wealth and respect he has now. He brushes off critics as "drama queens" and makes clear he built everything himself.
The hook repeats a hometown shoutout to his mother, naming her by different nicknames each time it plays, crediting her for raising someone who became an icon. Even as he claims the throne, he says he doesn't want to be at the top alone, closing the song as a shared win with the people who got him there, alongside featured artist Quevedo.
"RE-UP" is a bittersweet goodbye. Cruz Cafuné and Kris Floyd sing about a couple spending one last night together, even though the relationship is already over. They smoke, drive around, and fall back into old routines out of habit and comfort rather than real hope, all while admitting that something between them has changed for good.
The chorus, "let's pretend that nothing is wrong for the last time," turns the song into a kind of truce: neither person is trying to fix things, they just want one more familiar night before they really let go. By the end, the mood shifts from tenderness to distance, and the repeated "tomorrow we'll see what we're going to do" makes clear that this night is the ending, not a new beginning.