
Morad El Khattouti El Horami, known simply as Morad, is a Moroccan-Spanish rapper and singer from L'Hospitalet de Llobregat, Catalonia, born in 1999. Rising from the streets of La Florida neighborhood, he began his music career at age 14 and quickly gained prominence with his raw and honest lyrics focused on street life and personal struggle.
Morad's music primarily blends hip-hop, drill, and afrobeats, popularizing the abbreviation "M.D.L.R" (Mec de la Rue) in Spain. He shot to national fame with hits like "Bzrp Music Sessions Vol. 47" and "Pelele," topping Spanish charts. His albums, including "M.D.L.R" (2019) and the critically acclaimed "Reinsertado" (2023), showcase his authentic voice as the most streamed emerging drill artist in Spain. Known for his iconic tracksuits and vibrant street style, Morad continues to break barriers and connect communities through his music.
This song is all about being completely hooked on someone who has that special something. The artists can't figure out what it is, but it has them obsessed. As Morad says, "No sé lo que tiene que me tiene todo el día / Pe-pensando soñando que eres mía" (I don't know what she has that has me all day / Th-thinking, dreaming that you're mine). She's not just beautiful, like a "modelo de pasarela" (runway model) who everyone stares at; she's also fiercely independent. The chorus repeats that "Se gana lo suyo... Sola se mantiene" (She earns her own... She supports herself), which is a huge part of her appeal.
But it's not a simple love story. There's a lot of push and pull. He admits he's not always sincere and she calls him boring for not taking her out. Their relationship is a secret because her parents disapprove: "siempre nos vemos a escondí'a" (we always see each other in secret). Beny Jr's verse adds another layer, noting that her friends warn her he's a bad boy, a "bandido y eso no conviene" (a bandit and that's not a good idea). Despite all the drama and his own resistance to commitment, they can't stay away from each other. He's so captivated that he says, "Quiero olvidarme, pero mira que no puedo con lo que tiene" (I want to forget, but look, I can't because of what she has).
This song is a massive shout-out to the football star Lamine Yamal, but Morad uses him as a symbol for his own success. He kicks things off by comparing his rise to one of Yamal's amazing goals: "Qué golazo de Lamine para la historia del fútbol" (What a goal by Lamine for football history). Morad is basically saying he's at the top of his game, just like a star player. He sees himself as playing in the "first division" on the streets: "en la calle juego en primera" (on the street I play in the first division).
But this isn't just a victory lap. Morad spends most of the song reflecting on his journey from the bottom. He talks about his roots, saying "Vengo de la calle, por eso todo lo soñaba" (I come from the street, that's why I dreamed of everything). He warns about fake friends who only show up for the good times and stresses the importance of watching your back because "de espaldas vienen todas las balas" (all the bullets come from behind). He's proud of his heritage, repeating "Mamá es de África, papá es de África" (Mom is from Africa, Dad is from Africa), and makes it clear that even with money and success, he remembers what it was like to have nothing.
This song is all about the confusion and frustration after a breakup. Morad and Rvfv are trying to figure out an ex-girlfriend who keeps sending mixed signals. They wonder if she's just trying to make them jealous, asking, "¿Será que lo hace para ver si yo me altero? ¿Será que lo hace para ver si me desespero?" [Could it be she does it to see if I get upset? Could it be she does it to see if I get desperate?]. They even speculate that maybe her new relationship isn't working out, asking, "¿Será su nuevo novio que no la quiere?" [Could it be her new boyfriend doesn't love her?].
Throughout the song, the singers swing between acting tough and admitting they're still hurt. Morad claims he's moved on, saying his heart is full because "mi madre ha llenado todo ese aforo" [my mother has filled all that space], but then Rvfv admits, "siento como algo dentro se muere" [I feel like something inside me dies] if he doesn't see her. They're convinced she's not over them either, with the brilliant line, "Ella tiene un nuevo novio, pero a ese novio le pone mi cara" [She has a new boyfriend, but she puts my face on that boyfriend]. It's a classic case of two people who are no longer together but are still completely tangled up in each other's lives.
This song is a straight-up diss track, and Morad is not holding back! He calls his rival a "Pelele" (puppet, or wimp), someone who is all talk and no action. He paints himself as the authentic voice of the streets, saying he's always played there while his opponent is trying to get on mainstream radio: "Yo sonando siempre en la calle, tú 40 Principales" (I'm always playing in the street, you're on the Top 40).
Morad makes fun of his rival for needing a huge team—"Cuatro guitarrista' 17 que tienen orquesta" (Four guitarists, 17 who have an orchestra)—just to make a song that nobody plays at parties. He contrasts this with his own effortless style. The whole track is a challenge, with Morad asking "¿Dónde estás escondí'o?" (Where are you hiding?) and accusing the other guy of being a fake who has a gun but doesn't shoot. It's a confident, aggressive track that establishes Morad as the real deal and his opponent as nothing more than a puppet.
In "Aprendí," which means "I Learned," Morad lays out the rules he's learned for survival. This isn't a song about school; it's about the lessons from the street. The most important rule? Trust your mom. He says, "Y aprendí que de consejos de mi madre sí me fío" (And I learned that I do trust my mother's advice). She's the one who won't open the door to the police and the only one he's sure will stick by him. For everyone else, he's learned to be careful. He warns that "la mano amiga, no es la que se fía" (the friendly hand is not the one to be trusted) and that envy grows with success. He's seen friends turn on him as his circle got bigger.
Morad reflects on his journey from having nothing to his current success. He remembers when "para las bici' no tenía ni poca" (for bikes I didn't even have a little) and now he sees kids paying for everything upfront. He's faced judgment and trouble, but he's determined to keep going. He makes a promise: "aunque digan que pare, te juro no pararé" (even if they say to stop, I swear I won't stop). As long as his mother is smiling, he'll continue. The song ends with a sense of contentment despite the daily problems, because he's living his truth: "Problemas diario pero estoy contento" (Daily problems but I'm happy).
In "Niños Pequeños," which translates to "Little Kids," Spanish artist Morad paints a vivid picture of life on the streets. He describes a world where young people are "obsessed with committing crimes," like stealing cars. However, this isn't a celebration of crime for its own sake. Instead, Morad reveals the motivations behind this difficult lifestyle: a powerful sense of loyalty to friends and an even deeper devotion to family.
Throughout the song, Morad contrasts the harsh realities of the street with a strong moral code. He emphasizes helping friends without expecting anything in return and warns against showing off wealth. The ultimate obsession, he reveals, isn't crime itself, but providing for his mother. The lyrics shift to describe kids who are obsessed with helping their mom, paying her rent, keeping the fridge full, and dreaming of buying her a house. It's a raw and honest look at how the desire to care for family can lead people down a dangerous path.
In "Lo Niego," Morad lays out his personal philosophy, and it's all about self-reliance and being careful who you trust. He's been let down before, and now he'd rather be on his own than with the wrong people. He says, "No creo en la confianza, mejor le digo a todo hasta luego" (I don't believe in trust, I'd rather say goodbye to everything). It's a tough stance, but he explains that he's seen people betray others for money and women, and he prefers to stick with his small circle of genuine friends who are "reales, no vive en fachada" (real, they don't live a facade).
Throughout the song, he repeats the line "No soy malo, lo niego" (I'm not bad, I deny it), pushing back against how others might see him. He talks about the harsh realities of life, mentioning that "La cárcel no es un sitio bonito, pero es real" (Jail isn't a pretty place, but it's real). Despite the struggles, the song ends with a powerful message of taking control of your own life. He believes that "Tiempos mejores no nacen, se hacen" (Better times aren't born, they are made), telling you that you have the power to create your own future.
Get ready to dive into the world of Spanish rapper Morad with his track "Cuzi Cuza." The song paints a vivid picture of life on the streets, starting from the early morning. Morad describes a scene where young people are hustling and constantly under the watch of undercover police. The lyrics mention specific details like the "L" hand sign, representing his neighborhood La Florida, and everyone being dressed in Adidas, creating a strong sense of identity and community.
The chorus is built around the phrase "cuzi cuza," which refers to the shady business and hustling that defines this lifestyle. Morad compares his crew to the "Yakuza," a powerful Japanese criminal organization, to emphasize their seriousness and organized nature. He warns that in this world, there are no excuses for mistakes, and that deception is a common tool. The song isn't just about a single neighborhood; it mentions journeys from Barcelona to Seville and even to Marseille in France, showing the wide-reaching nature of this street life.
This song is a straight-up declaration of love, or maybe obsession, after just one look. Morad sees a girl and is instantly hooked. He tells her, "Una mirada lo dice todo / Yo más te miro, más me enamoro" (A look says it all / The more I look at you, the more I fall in love). His main goal is simple: "Quiero que tú seas mi chula y yo ser tu chulo" (I want you to be my girl and I'll be your guy). He sees her as the solution to all his problems, saying that with her, the torment of his life disappears.
He builds a whole fantasy around her, even though he admits, "solo te he visto una ve'" (I've only seen you once). He imagines her getting jealous if he looks at other women and describes her unique beauty, comparing her brown eyes to a German winter and her skin tone to Italy. He pleads with her, "No te me hagas la dura, porque eres pa' mí" (Don't play hard to get, because you're for me), showing a bold confidence that she is meant for him. The song mixes this intense romantic fantasy with hints of a difficult life, mentioning "noches frías por Algecira, buscando talego" (cold nights in Algeciras, looking for money/jail), which makes his desire for her feel like a desperate search for an escape.
This song is a classic breakup anthem, but with a twist from the streets. Morad and his friends are calling out someone who wasn't there for them when things were tough. The main point is right in the title: "No estuviste en lo malo, dime, ¿por qué en lo bonito?" (You weren't there for the bad, tell me, why [should you be here] for the good?). He remembers wanting to give this person everything, saying "yo quería darte la estrella y acabó todo en un meteorito" (I wanted to give you the star and it all ended in a meteorite). It's a great line about a dream crashing and burning.
But here's where it gets interesting. For someone who claims "Hace tiempo que de ti yo nada necesito" (For a while now, I've needed nothing from you), he spends the whole song thinking about her. He admits, "Llevo dos meses pensándote" (I've been thinking about you for two months) and can't stop himself. He tries to act tough, like a lone wolf whose "huellas son como de un lobo" (footprints are like a wolf's), but the pain is obvious. He's stuck between wanting to forget and being unable to.
Morad kicks off "Normal" by telling us exactly how he feels about the police: "Odio a los azules, también los picolos" [I hate the blues (police), also the picolos (civil guard)]. He says this is just a normal feeling where he's from. The song describes a life shaped by poverty, where kids as young as 17 risk their lives at sea just "Para darle a su mamá comida y mesa" [To give their mom food and a table]. He has no time for people who act like gangsters on social media, calling them out for being all talk.
He paints a picture of his neighborhood, Hospitalet, as a place where you have to be tough to survive. He talks about running from the police and getting scratches, and how some people get a big ego from a short prison stay while others do serious time and stay humble. The second half of the song shifts into a long, freestyle-like list of contradictions that make up his life: "A veces estoy en busca y a veces estoy en blanco" [Sometimes I'm searching and sometimes I'm blank]. He's talking about the ups and downs of his reality, from needing money to making music, from being alone to being with his crew. It's a blunt look at his world, where this difficult life is simply... normal.
Morad's "Mi Barrio" is a proud and honest story about where he comes from. He talks about growing up poor, with lines like "De pequeño nunca me llegaba para cocodrilo" (When I was little I could never afford the crocodile [Lacoste logo]) and having "Parches en rodillas" (Patches on my knees). But even when he was hungry, he says "te juro que no he comido solo" (I swear I haven't eaten alone), showing a deep loyalty to his community. He's not interested in being a fashion model; he bluntly contrasts that world with his own street knowledge, saying "No soy ni modelo... Pero si tú quieres, te enseño a como vestir un kilo" (I'm not a model... But if you want, I'll teach you how to dress a kilo).
This song is his answer to anyone who doubts him or talks about him. He knows people are watching his success, saying "Parece que les molesta, que el Morad sube, sube" (It seems to bother them that Morad is rising, rising). But he doesn't care. He finds his strength and identity in his neighborhood. The chorus is a powerful statement of belonging: "La vida es dura, pero menos en mi barrio" (Life is hard, but less so in my neighborhood). When people ask where he is, the answer is always the same: "¿Dónde está el Morad? Siempre está metido en su barrio" (Where is Morad? He's always in his neighborhood).
Morad’s "Pensamientos" (“Thoughts”) invites us into the raw, fast-paced reality of Barcelona’s street life. The repeated “le-le-le” chant feels playful at first, yet it sets the rhythm for a tale about survival, quick money, and the constant push-and-pull between silence and confession. Morad points out that people online love to brag and "explain it all," while on his block most prefer to keep their heads down and simply watch what moves. He reminds listeners that the illegal hustle is rarely about fun; it is about wanting more than life has allowed so far, even if that dream risks bullets, prison, or regret.
In the verses, Morad calls out fake toughness, warning that talking big can get you "fatal" results where he comes from. He paints a cycle: chase fast cash, face violence, then either end up behind bars or in a grave. Yet the chorus proudly shouts “M.D.L.R” (Morad De La Rue, meaning "Morad from the street"), embracing his roots and the old-school code he grew up with. "Pensamientos" is a gritty reflection on ambition, consequence, and street loyalty, wrapped in a catchy hook that lets the message linger long after the beat fades.
Morad's "Perezoso" is all about the hustle and staying true to yourself in the streets. He's constantly working, "Buscando peso a peso, no soy perezoso" [Searching peso by peso, I'm not lazy], making sure his crew is fed, "Los míos todos comen, tienen su pedazo" [Mine all eat, they have their piece].
He's also super wary of fakes and people who try to take advantage, like when he says, "Le di la mano a ese, me cogió to' el brazo" [I gave him my hand, he took my whole arm]. And when it comes to relationships, he's clear: "Esa quiere conmigo y yo no me caso" [She wants to be with me and I'm not getting married]. It's a blunt, no-nonsense look at street life, loyalty, and staying sharp.
Morad's "De Nada" is a powerful anthem about staying true to yourself and your roots, no matter what. He starts by saying, "Si tú quieres te enseño a hacerlo / El que habla se le da pa'l pelo" [If you want, I'll teach you how to do it / The one who talks gets their hair pulled], which is a blunt warning against being a snitch or a traitor. He emphasizes that if you become a betrayer or disrespect your values, "No hay dinero que lo recupere" [There's no money that can recover it].
Morad makes it clear that his hustle is for his mom, stating, "Se busca solo pa' la mama / Ella se merece todo lo que gane" [He only looks for it for his mom / She deserves everything he earns]. He's proud to say, "A ninguno yo le debo de nada / Empecé yo solo de la nada" [I don't owe anything to anyone / I started alone from nothing], highlighting his self-made journey. He also touches on the envy he faced, with people watching him rise: "El que ennvidia a mí me deseaba / Veía como me elebava" [The one who envies me desired me / Saw how I was rising]. It's a real and honest look at loyalty, ambition, and remembering where you came from.
Morad's "Carretera" [Road] takes us on a journey, literally and figuratively! He's all about moving forward, making it clear that "Lo que se te quita dudo que te vuelva" [What is taken from you, I doubt it will return]. This song is a declaration of carving your own path, doing things "de otra manera" [in another way], and not being just anyone. He talks about his car being a "hoguera" [bonfire], crossing borders and barriers, hinting at a life on the move, maybe even a bit illicit, as he mentions routes to Málaga, Algeciras, Granada, and Sevilla.
Morad also reflects on the tough realities of his neighborhood, where "niños ya no quieren costura" [kids no longer want to sew], suggesting a shift away from traditional work. He's learned to live with the bad, saying "Aprendí a vivir con to' lo malo" [I learned to live with all the bad], and to navigate things on his own. It's a blunt look at resilience and self-reliance, with a touch of defiance against those who talk big but can't back it up, like the line "No eres rey de leone', porque solo eres una gata" [You're not the king of lions, because you're just a cat].
Morad's "Chandal" is a defiant anthem about staying true to yourself, no matter the situation. He's basically saying, "I'm wearing my tracksuit everywhere, and there's nothing you can do about it!"
He talks about going to the club, to a wedding, even to court, all in his tracksuit: "Si voy a una boda, en chándal, si voy al juzgado, en chándal" [If I go to a wedding, in tracksuit, if I go to court, in tracksuit]. It's a symbol of his identity and his crew, a "banda organizada" [organized band] that's always prepared. He even jokes about how they used to be denied entry to clubs in tracksuits, but now they're so successful, they get in no problem: "Antes discoteca en chándal, no nos daban la entrada / Ahora discoteca en chándal, seis números en adelantado" [Before, discotheque in tracksuit, they wouldn't let us in / Now, discotheque in tracksuit, six numbers in advance]. It's a fun, boastful track about loyalty, success, and sticking to your roots.
Morad and Trobi's "Cómo Están?" is a high-energy track where Morad confidently asserts his rise from the streets to success, all while throwing shade at his detractors. He kicks things off by repeating "Mbappé, Mbappé, Mbappé, Mbappé" – a clear nod to the famous footballer, suggesting speed, skill, and being at the top of his game. He talks about his past, saying "solamente me gustaba en la calle las matemática'" [I only liked math in the streets], hinting at a street-smart approach to life.
Morad makes it clear that he's making "música para todos los barrios" [music for all the neighborhoods] and isn't changing his style. He challenges his haters directly, asking "¿Y cómo están? Hablan pero luego dime dónde están" [And how are they? They talk but then tell me where they are] and declaring "Ahora yo soy el que reparte el pan" [Now I'm the one who distributes the bread], meaning he's in control and providing for his people. He even describes how his rivals "se van por pata, y se van por coche, cogen un tren y se embalan" [they leave on foot, and they leave by car, they take a train and they pack up] when they see him, showing their fear. It's a bold statement of dominance and a warning to anyone who doubts him.
Morad names the problem in his first line and then spends the rest of the track explaining where it came from. Sigo viviendo con mi paranoia (I keep living with my paranoia), and the verses that follow read like a rulebook from the La Florida blocks of L'Hospitalet, rattled off fast and with no punchlines. Keep your phone on, because si apagado ya te echan por canalla (if it is off, they write you off as a lowlife). Never leave a friend on the run. Keep your word even when listening to the wrong person costs you. He remembers being small and watching the older kids lift perfume bottles and se montaban rápido en un Dacia (jump fast into a Dacia), which is a very particular kind of glamour. Not a getaway car. A Dacia.
The hook is where he stops defending himself. No juzgo porque peco (I do not judge, because I sin too) is the whole moral position of the song in four words, and it arrives right after he describes greed as the thing que rompe el saco (that bursts the sack) and leaves you in jail with no tobacco. He is just as blunt about the fame: No soy famoso, nunca he hecho una firma (I am not famous, I have never signed an autograph). Then the outro hands the song over to a chant against the Catalan police, repeated until the beat runs out, which tells you how much of the paranoia he built himself and how much of it was handed to him.