Learn Spanish With Feid with these 23 Song Recommendations (Full Translations Included!)

Colombian reggaeton star Feid teams up with ATL Jacob on "LUNA", a track where he is stuck replaying memories of an ex who walked away. He admits he spends his nights drinking and smoking alone ("Fumo y bebo solo" [I smoke and drink alone]), trying to figure out the exact moment things fell apart: "No supe qué día te olvidaste de mí" (I didn't realize which day you forgot about me). There is a sharp sting of betrayal here. He claims she traded down by leaving him, flipping the usual saying on its head with "Cambiaste plata por oro" (You traded silver for gold), meaning he was the real prize all along.

Feid keeps the energy high even while nursing a broken heart, tossing in boxing metaphors like "me tiraste pa' la lona" (you knocked me to the canvas) and complaining that she drained his energy completely ("Me dejaste en cero toda la estámina" [You left my stamina at zero]). He also mixes in Colombian party slang, looking back at "Hacer el amor cuando estábamos farros" (Making love when we were partying / out having a wild night). Even though he misses her, he sets a firm boundary: "No me llames cuando te sientas sola" (Don't call me when you feel lonely). By the end, he is just waiting for the track itself to finish so he can finally move on.

"Medellín Takai" is a playful crossover between Feid, one of Colombia's biggest reggaeton stars, and Yuki Chiba, a Japanese rapper. The whole song is built around one simple flex: wherever you go out, it costs money, and both artists are happy to spend it.

Feid opens with his usual party talk, mixing Spanish slang like "chimbita" (a cute or attractive girl) with playful sound effects ("ta-ta-ta-ta-ta", "tra-tra-tra-tra-tra") that mimic the beat itself. He's inviting someone to dance and spend the whole night with him, no half measures.

Partway through, Yuki Chiba takes over entirely in Japanese. He introduces himself, jokes that even though he's from Japan he's just as "Latino" as Feid when the vibe calls for it, and name-drops Shakira and Rosalía as the kind of Latin women he's always liked. He admits he doesn't understand everything being said around him, but he likes it anyway.

The song's hook, and its title, land in the outro: Feid sings "Medellín está caro" (Medellín is expensive), and Yuki Chiba answers in Japanese with "Tokyo Takai" (Tokyo is expensive). It's a lighthearted way of saying that living large costs about the same no matter where you are, and that the two artists, and their two very different languages, are completely on the same page about it.

Feid turns the club into a runway. "Alakran" (scorpion) is a nickname for the sharp, dangerous energy of the girls he's describing: confident and dressed head to toe in Bottega, Margiela and Louis Vuitton.

The song has no real story. It's a snapshot of a Friday night, glamorous women pulling up to the party in an SUV, skipping the VIP line because everyone already knows who they are, while the guys in the room are left chasing after them.

Colombian reggaeton star Feid brings his signature Medellín sound to SE LO JURO MOR, delivering an honest breakup track about drawing the line with an ex who won't stop texting. The title itself uses classic paisa slang: mor is short for amor (love), commonly used like "babe" or "honey." In the track, Feid feels burned because he thought this person was special, singing, "pensaba que tú sí ibas a ser la diferente" ("I thought you were going to be the different one"). Instead, he realizes he took the fall for someone else's past trauma, asking who hurt her so badly that she decided to take it out on him ("se lo cobraste a mi nombre" / "you charged it to my name"). He even drops a brutal comparison: "Pa' ti yo siempre fui un motel / Hoy estás, pero mañana no sé" ("To you I was always a motel / Today you're here, but tomorrow I don't know").

Instead of moping around forever, he pivots into healing through partying and moving on. He admits, "Me la he pasado farreando, corazón, I can't lie" ("I've spent my time partying, sweetheart, I can't lie"), using the Colombian slang verb farrear (to party or hit the clubs). Now, he makes it clear that while he spends his money, he refuses to waste his time on mixed signals. Even though she still sends late-night texts saying she misses him, Feid tells her straight up: "Ya suelta mi mano" ("Let go of my hand"). It is a relatable, smooth track about finally cutting the cord after realizing someone's kisses were only on loan ("tus besos to's fueron prestado").

Colombian hitmaker Feid gives us the ultimate post-breakup reality check in "Normal". The situation is messy: he was giving 100% while she only gave half, sleeping beside him while seeing someone else ("Yo durmiendo contigo y tú con otro te acuestas" [I was sleeping with you and you sleep with someone else]). Now that they are over, she is hitting the club every weekend hoping to run into him, calling him drunk, and pretending to cry over him in another person's bed. Feid's reaction? Shrugging it off with a sarcastic "Normal" ("Normal, si te sientes solita y me extrañas" [It's normal if you feel lonely and miss me]). Nobody is buying her sob story when she brought it on herself.

Feid balances genuine hurt with hilarious levels of petty confidence. He admits that forgiving her is too hard, but he is definitely not sitting around moping. Instead, he is in Los Cabos making money ("están lloviendo los chavos" [money is raining down]), dancing with someone new, and offering some cheeky medical advice: if her heart hurts, she should take a Panadol painkiller ("Si le duele el cora', que se tome un Panadol" [If her heart hurts, let her take a Panadol]). He points out Colombian and Caribbean slang along the way, calling reckless guys "gatos malos" (bad cats / bad boys) and calling out her fake social media smile ("Bebé, si en la foto te ves feliz" [Baby, you look happy in your photo]). It is a bouncy, direct track about moving on, getting your lick back, and watching your ex realize what they lost.

Colombian star Feid teams up with Puerto Rican artist Young Miko for "Classy 101," a reggaeton track that skips the slow courtship entirely. Feid opens by daydreaming about someone out of their designer clothes—"sin ese Valentino" [without that Valentino]—and makes it clear he has zero interest in a traditional relationship: "Vamos a comernos, baby, aunque no sea formal" [Let's hook up, baby, even if it's not formal]. The vibe here is completely direct. He loves that she looks expensive and acts confident, calling her "cara, bitchy, classy" [expensive-looking, bitchy, classy] and betting she prefers wild encounters over candlelight dinners ("Nada de lo romantic" [Nothing romantic]).

Young Miko jumps in to match that energy without missing a beat. She hypes up a party girl who has been hitting clubs before she even had a legal ID ("Rumbea desde que no tiene ID" [She parties since she didn't have an ID]), stealing Oakley shades, and causing total chaos on the dance floor. The track leans heavily into playful flirtation, using funny legal metaphors like threatening to "cobrar la multa" [charge the fine] for teasing looks and begging to be put under "house arrest." It is loud, bold, and delightfully unapologetic about wanting pure fun without strings attached.

"Perfecta" feels like watching two people playfully size each other up under party lights. Colombian singer Feid starts things off with pure hype, watching someone step out feeling good, hair moving, and looking sharp in her dress: "Te maquillas, te luce el vestido" [You put on makeup, the dress looks great on you]. The chorus repeats the core idea with no hesitation: "Tan perfecta tú / Hoy que saliste a la calle / Tan perfecta que / No necesitas a nadie" [You're so perfect today when you went out into the street / So perfect that you don't need anyone]. He even jokes that the moon is jealous of her. It is loud flattery, but then Greeicy steps in to challenge him directly.

She immediately calls out the recycled pickup lines. She asks why he tries to impress her "con cuentos que con alguien practicaste" [with stories you practiced with someone else] and adds firmly, "eso conmigo no va" [that doesn't fly with me / that doesn't work on me]. In everyday Spanish, "no va conmigo" is a great idiom for brushing off games or behavior you refuse to tolerate. She does not kick him to the curb completely, though. She tells him she is willing to listen if he says something genuinely original, pointing out "Que no eres todavía el hombre de mi vida / Pero con el tiempo yo puedo enamorarme" [You aren't the man of my life yet / But with time I could fall in love]. It turns a standard party compliment into an honest back-and-forth about self-worth and cutting through the nonsense.

In "Ferxxo 100," Colombian star Feid takes us through a late-night heartbreak spiral that feels way too relatable. He is drunk at dawn, staring at a silent phone, and trying to pretend he has moved on by taking someone else out. Spoiler: it fails completely. The second he looks at his new date, all he sees is his ex ("Pero la miro y me acuerdo de ti" ["But I look at her and I remember you"]). Instead of playing it cool, he admits to roaming the streets hoping to run into her, blasting old perreo through his Bose speaker, and spamming her with songs over voice notes like an obsessive mess ("Yo todo intenso preguntando por vos" ["Me, totally intense, asking about you"]).

Feid packs the lyrics with colourful Colombian slang and local pop culture punchlines. He throws in blunt swear words like "Qué falta me haces tan hijueputa" ["I miss you so damn much"] and makes a cheeky reference to internet gossip with "Me echaste como echaron de Philipp Plein a la Segura" ["You kicked me out like they kicked La Segura out of Philipp Plein"], nodding to a viral moment involving the Colombian influencer. Even while pleading that he never messed up ("Yo nunca la cagué" ["I never screwed up"]) and begging to meet tonight, he softens up with a genuine wish: "sólo espero que si no vuelves conmigo, siempre te cuide Dios" ["I just hope that if you don't come back to me, God always watches over you"].

Colombian reggaeton star Feid brings a heavy dose of Medellín flavor to this breakup track, where he looks back at a toxic relationship with a mix of sarcasm, regret, and relief. The title and chorus hinge on cutting irony when he sings, "Perdóname por tanto, yo pensé que esto era real" [Forgive me for giving so much, I thought this was real] alongside "gracias por nada" [thanks for nothing]. He admits that even though he is hurt ("así me quede roto" [even if I'm left broken]), moving on is the only option. All that remains of the good times is a single memory: "De esa fiesta en Berlín sólo nos queda la foto" [From that party in Berlin, all we have left is the photo].

What makes this track stand out is Feid's sharp use of Colombian slang while he recovers his social life. He kicks himself for ditching his friends to stay home waiting for an unfaithful partner, swearing, "La chimba, uno no cambia un culo por los bros" [No way, you don't trade your bros for someone you're seeing]. In Medellín street talk, "la chimba" acts as strong slang for "no way," while "guaro" means aguardiente (the local anise-flavored liquor) and "las firmas" refers to his trusted close crew. Instead of moping over passive-aggressive social media posts ("Esas indirectas del story, baby, no las mandes más" [Those hints on your Instagram story, baby, don't send them anymore]), he hits the club, declines her late-night calls, and spends his cash partying with his friends.

"HULU" is Feid's invitation to a steamy night where reggaetón beats slow down just enough for bodies to sync. Over glittering synths, the Colombian singer reminisces about an unforgettable encounter: the taste of desire ("estuvo deli"), the instant readiness to relive it, and the dizzying chemistry that makes the room spin. The hook repeats like a pulse, highlighting how the duo's attraction burns "más caliente que un punto de venta," hotter than a card reader that never stops swiping.

At the same time, the song is pure party fuel. Feid paints a scene where the crew wants perreo and a crowd of confident women in mini skirts and bikini tans flood the dance floor. Freedom, flirtation, and rhythmic hips mix with that slow reggaetón tempo, turning the club into a space where nothing exists but the music, the heat, and the promise of another wild memory. Think of "HULU" as a short film of nighttime celebration: press play and you step inside the story.

Colombian reggaeton star Feid brings total heartbreak to this track, mixing heavy regret with classic Medellín slang. He kicks things off staring at old text messages, furious at himself for being so naive: "Qué puta rabia por lo ingenuo que fui" ("What fucking rage over how naive I was"). He thought he was the only one, only to catch her with someone else using his own two eyes. Now, he is dealing with bloodshot eyes and total isolation, admitting that his mental health walked out the door with her.

Feid paints a painfully funny picture of his misery, shouting classic vallenato tunes out in the country until his throat gives out: "Baby, casi me quedo sin voz / Cantando en la finca un osito dormilón" ("Baby, I almost lost my voice / Singing 'A Sleeping Little Bear' on the farm"). He relies on heavy Colombian paisa slang throughout. He addresses her using vos instead of the standard tú, calls out his lonely weekends with "Ya van seis meses sin salir ni un carechimba viernes" ("It's been six months without going out on a single damn Friday"), and tries to drown his sorrow in liquor. It is messy, honest, and completely direct.

Feid’s “ATEO” spins a late–night confession over a reggaetón beat, where love and lust clash on the dance floor. The Colombian hitmaker admits he’s so hurt that he’s “become an atheist” in matters of the heart—he no longer “believes” in any girl he meets on the streets since losing the one who parked herself in his heart. Between shots of liquor and glowing club lights, he scrolls her videos, longs for her texts, and blocks every other contact in hopes of winning her back.

Under the bass, the song is really a plea: he doesn’t want small talk, he wants to feel her close again, convinced that no one knows her body like he does. “ATEO” captures that relatable moment when heartbreak mixes with nightlife—dancing, drinking, and pretending to move on—while secretly begging for one more chance to reconnect, both emotionally and physically.

X19X captures the thrill of a fiery, no-strings-attached fling that blurs the line between impulse and emotion. Feid paints the picture of two people whose chemistry is instant: they skip the small talk, jump straight into passion, and light up the night (literally and figuratively) with music, smoke, and luxury rides. He’s keenly aware that their connection might be short-lived, yet every moment feels electric and worth remembering—enough for him to replay it in his mind even while seeing other people.

Beneath the swagger and sensual wordplay, the song hints at a tug-of-war between freedom and attachment. Both lovers know this affair isn’t “para toda la vida,” but the memories are addictive and hard to shake. Feid acknowledges the honesty of their arrangement: no commitments, just intense encounters whenever the spark strikes. In singing about fleeting intimacy and recurring desire, he turns a casual hookup into a magnetic, bittersweet anthem for anyone who’s ever lived in the moment and wondered why it lingers so long afterward.

"Boleritoxx" is Feid's take on heartbreak, set to a bolero-inspired rhythm. A year after a breakup, he's still surrounded by reminders of her: her scent, the couch they used to share, memories saved in old videos. He hasn't moved on, even while trying to convince himself something better is coming.

The tone stays gentle rather than bitter. He holds no grudges and genuinely wishes her well, but admits he's still the one drinking away the nights and missing her most when he's supposed to be happy. Underneath the soft delivery, "Boleritoxx" is about the quiet, ordinary ache of missing someone long after everyone assumes you've moved on.

In „LUNA“ sucht Feid, der kolumbianische Künstler, nach einer früheren Partnerin und nach dem Moment, in dem alles auseinandergegangen ist. Gleich am Anfang fragt er: „Te busco y no sé dónde estás“ [Ich suche dich und weiß nicht, wo du bist]. Er erinnert sich daran, sie „mi reina“ [meine Königin] genannt zu haben, und daran, dass ihre gemeinsamen Nächte nicht zum Schlafen da waren. Heute raucht und trinkt er allein und versteht nicht, wann sie aufgehört hat, an ihn zu denken: „No supe qué día te olvidaste de mí“ [Ich wusste nicht, an welchem Tag du mich vergessen hast]. Das wiederholte „de mí, y yo de ti“ [von mir, und ich von dir] klingt dabei fast wie ein Kreislauf, aus dem beide nicht herauskommen.

Dann wird Feid direkter und ein bisschen bissig. „Me tiraste pa’ la lona“ [Du hast mich auf die Bretter geschickt] ist ein Boxbild für einen heftigen Schlag, und „me dejaste en cero toda la estamina“ [Du hast meine ganze Energie auf null gesetzt] beschreibt, wie erschöpft er sich nach der Trennung fühlt. „Pa’“ ist die verkürzte Umgangsform von para, also „für“ oder „auf“. Er vermisst zwar die Autos und den Sex, als sie „farros“ waren, also ausgelassen feierten und vermutlich berauscht waren, will aber nicht, dass sie ihn nur anruft, wenn sie einsam ist. Besonders bitter ist sein Rückblick auf ihr Versprechen, Jahre zusammenzubleiben: „Todo era mentira“ [Alles war gelogen]. Trotzdem sagt er, dass er ihr manchmal verzeihen möchte. Genau darin liegt der Streit des Liedes: Er sucht Antworten und vermisst sie, wünscht sich aber ebenso, dieses Thema endlich zu beenden und sie zu vergessen.

“FERXXO 30” drops us straight into Feid’s late–night spiral, where the club lights flash but his mind is stuck on one person. The Colombian star admits he has money, music, and a line of admirers, yet none of it fills the gap left by a past love. Every verse circles back to the same confession: “Sigo esperándote… Estoy pensándote.” No matter how much he parties, smokes, or jokes with friends, her memory sneaks in like a shadow. He sends drunk texts that never get answered, laughs on the outside while crying on the inside, and even dodges flirty strangers because his heart is still taken.

Behind the catchy reggaetón beat lies a raw portrait of modern heartbreak. Feid captures that push-and-pull between looking confident on social media and feeling shattered alone. “FERXXO 30” is an anthem for anyone who has tried to dance away their feelings, only to realize the dance floor can’t compete with a single unforgettable kiss. The song reminds us that love can be louder than any bass drop, and sometimes the hardest part of moving on is admitting you’re still waiting.

Feid’s “EL PADRINO” is a steamy reggaetón confession about a clandestine romance that refuses to cool down. The narrator is magnetically drawn to a woman who keeps sliding into his life with irresistible energy. They have both been longing to meet, to escape their personal "winter," and to dive headfirst into an endless summer of pleasure. When the long-awaited encounter finally happens, she greets him without clothes, instantly proving she has "the cure" for his cravings. The lyrics paint vivid snapshots: canceled plans, diamonds flashing, a room scented with weed, and clothes scattered on the floor — every detail amplifies the raw chemistry.

Beyond the explicit imagery, “EL PADRINO” celebrates empowerment and confidence. Feid positions himself as the “boss,” yet he admires the woman’s natural allure and command of the moment. The track pulses with the excitement of living fast, indulging desires, and finding a partner who matches the same daring vibe. Picture it as an after-hours movie scene where both characters know exactly what they want, and the night becomes their private playground.

ESQUIRLA paints the picture of a fearless woman who has turned heartbreak into high-voltage energy. Her ex left a “shrapnel” in her heart, yet instead of visiting a doctor or sinking into sorrow, she prescribes herself perreo, loud music, and shots with her friends. Each sweaty night on the dance floor erases another scar, trading pain for rhythm and neon lights.

Feid follows her as she upgrades her life from monotony to jet-setting selfies in New York, Milan, and Paris. The chorus reminds us that the wound was deep, but the real story is her self-repair: she’s not waiting for anyone to fix her. With booming reggaetón beats, the song becomes a celebration of resilience, confidence, and the liberating power of dancing until dawn.

Get ready for a high-octane party anthem. In “FUMETEO,” Colombian star Feid hops on a brightly colored motorbike with his crew (the neas) to cruise the city in search of the coolest girls (gatas) and the wildest dance floors. The lyrics celebrate street swagger: revving engines, showing off fresh clothes “all Panini-original,” flashing hard-earned cash and jewelry, and name-dropping pop-culture icons like Billie Eilish’s rainbow hair and Dragon Ball’s Krilin to paint a vivid, playful picture of urban nightlife.

Beneath the bragging, Feid slips in a note of pride and gratitude. He reminds us that his squad “already shone when we were down,” turning hustle into success while staying loyal to their roots. “FUMETEO” is essentially a toast to resilience, friendship, and the unstoppable energy of perreo—that infectious, bass-heavy reggaetón groove that keeps everyone dancing until sunrise.

Feid, the Medellín-born singer, clocks out late from his "camello" (job) and rushes to his girl. His pockets are light, yet he arrives with the essentials: a blunt, half a bottle of rum, and unstoppable energy. The lyrics flip these modest offerings into proof that a night can feel luxurious when chemistry is sky-high and expectations are low.

Bouncing between street slang and heartfelt vows, Feid shows that love outweighs money. He admits he comes de abajo (from humble beginnings) but dreams of staying with her forever, even promising to pull the trigger if anyone threatens their bond. "X20X" is a gritty yet romantic anthem that celebrates loyalty, passion, and squeezing every drop of joy from whatever you have in your pocket.

Colombian reggaeton star Feid teams up with Maisak for "SE ME OLVIDA", a track all about the messy habit of drunk-dialing an ex who has already moved on. The title translates directly to "I Forget", and the narrator's big problem is that whenever he drinks, his brain deletes the breakup entirely. As he admits, "borracho / Se me olvida / Que ahora soy tu ex, que ya te perdí" ("drunk / I forget / That now I'm your ex, that I already lost you"). What stings even worse is the realization that while she was the love of his life, she is now happily with someone else: "el amor de mi vida / Está con el amor de su vida" ("the love of my life / Is with the love of her life").

The lyrics are packed with local Colombian flavor, slang, and painfully honest moments. Feid looks back at their humble beginnings, admitting he couldn't afford luxury designer brands like "Gucci" or "Fendi", offering cheap local sugarcane liquor instead: "Yo sólo te ofrecía guaro" ("I only offered you aguardiente"). Now that he has money from song royalties and drives the dream truck ("mionca", Colombian slang for camioneta or SUV), it feels completely pointless because "La silla derecha está vacía" ("The right seat is empty"). He even brings up intimate personal quirks that her new partner could never match, like knowing she loves listening to classic vallenato singer Diomedes Díaz on Sundays ("musiquita de Diomedes los domingos"). It is an honest, bittersweet look at success that feels hollow without the person you planned it all for.

Colombian star Feid teams up with reggaeton veteran Yandel to walk you through a messy Miami breakup. The track is named after Brickell, the upscale financial neighborhood in Miami where the narrator shared an apartment with his ex. He is stuck replaying memories of taking her to trendy nightlife spots like Papi Steak and Gekko ("Te llevé pa' Papi, te llevé pa' Gekko y ni querías comer" [I took you to Papi, I took you to Gekko and you didn't even want to eat]) and watching the sunrise together. Now that it is over, she treats him like a total stranger ("ahora me trata flow desconocido" [now she treats me like a stranger]), leaving him locked out of her social media status updates and wondering where she went.

The lyrics mix heavy nostalgia with Colombian slang and funny, overly honest regrets. When Feid sings "descubrimos lo chimba que es ver amanecer" [we discovered how cool it is to see the sunrise], he uses the classic Colombian word chimba to describe how great something is. He tries to rebound by going out on the prowl ("Hoy salgo de cacería" [Today I go hunting]), but his luck is terrible: he ends up at the exact same hotel where they used to hook up. To make matters worse, she still has his jacket and his Yeezy sneakers ("Tú te quedaste con el jacket y las Yeezy"), giving him a funny little excuse to hope he might run into her again just to get his clothes back.

Colombian reggaeton star Feid is putting his foot down in "Ferxxo 500." His ex is standing right in front of him trying to rekindle things, but he has zero interest in running it back. He is brutally honest about how much he used to hurt, admitting, "Yo te esperaba todas las noches y me cansé de rogar" ("I waited for you every night and got tired of begging"). Now, the emotional damage has healed into permanent scars, and her kisses simply do not taste the same anymore. He tells her plainly that picturing his life without her is the best thing that could have happened to him.

Feid mixes heartbreak with petty, memorable details that make the track hit home. He drops vivid Colombian and Latin slang, like "me diste en la torre" ("you ruined me" or "you hit me hard") and laughs at how her friends told her "píchale" ("ignore him"), pointing out that she happily ignored his calls but never took off the luxury Tiffany jewelry he bought her ("nunca te quitaste las joyitas de Tiffany"). Even though he acknowledges they had undeniable physical chemistry ("chingando éramos los mejores"), he didn't even get a call when she took a trip to Italy ("pa' Italy"). With every passing day, he forgets her a little more, leaving her with one final piece of advice: she better get used to life without him.