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

Spanish superstar ROSALÍA teams up with The Weeknd for a smooth bachata-infused track that treats fame like a toxic romance. Right off the bat, she tells us she gave up a real romance ("Yo tenía mi bebé" [I had my baby]) because she became obsessed with her music career. Her partner kept warning her, but she acted "como si nada" [like it was nothing]. The core of the song turns ambition into a dangerous seductress with the central hook: "Es mala amante la fama, no va a quererte de verdad" [Fame is a bad lover, she won't love you for real].

Both singers warn that fame is intensely jealous, addictive, and quick to vanish ("como ella viene, se te va" [as fast as she comes, she leaves you]). The ambition it brings feels like sharp little stabs directly to the chest ("Puñaladitas da su ambición" [Her ambition gives little stabs]). Even though both singers admit they cannot shake the obsession, they share one blunt rule for survival: you can sleep with fame if you want, but "nunca la vayas a casar" [never go and marry her].

Have you ever had a really bad feeling about something? That's the whole mood of ROSALÍA's "MALAMENTE". She opens with this perfect image of a premonition: "Ese cristalito roto / Yo sentí como crujía / Antes de caerse al suelo / Ya sabía que se rompía" (That little broken glass / I felt it crack / Before it hit the floor / I already knew it was breaking). The song is full of these spooky signs, from a flickering light to a wobbly bridge in a dream. It's all building up to a feeling of "Malamente" (Badly), a word she repeats like a dark chant.

But this isn't just a song about being scared. After all the warnings, including one from a fortune teller, she decides to act. She says, "Aunque no esté bonita / La noche... / Voy a salir pa' la calle" (Even if the night isn't pretty... / I'm going out to the street). She puts on her jewelry like armor and says a little prayer for protection. The final line reveals what this is all about: "No voy a perder ni un minuto en volver a pensarte" (I'm not going to waste another minute thinking about you again). It's a song about breaking free from a toxic situation, even when every instinct tells you something terrible is about to happen.

BESO is an open love letter packed into an upbeat Latin Urbano track, sung by Spanish superstar ROSALÍA and Puerto Rican artist Rauw Alejandro. The whole vibe is intensely romantic and needy in the sweetest way possible. They sing about that all-consuming stage of love where being apart feels unbearable: "Estar lejos de ti es el infierno / Estar cerca de ti es mi paz" [Being far from you is hell / Being close to you is my peace]. The chorus turns a simple request for a kiss into extreme devotion, throwing in the Spanish idiom "Yo me voy contigo a matar" [I'd go down fighting with you / I'd ride or die with you], which literally means going to the death for someone.

What makes this track stand out are the specific, quirky details in the verses. Instead of vague compliments, they praise how the other dances like a god, smokes with urgency, and smells like "tabaco y melón / Y a domingo en la ciudad" [tobacco and melon / and like Sunday in the city]. There is also great everyday slang to pick up on, like shortening words: "cel" for teléfono celular [cell phone] and "pa' dónde vas" instead of the formal para dónde vas [where are you going]. It feels playful, affectionate, and completely addicted to the other person's presence.

This isn't really a song in the usual sense, but more of a personal voice note from ROSALÍA to you! It's the very last track on her album MOTOMAMI, and it feels like we've been invited into the recording booth with her. It starts with what sounds like a soundcheck: she says, "I don't hear my voice so much," before getting it right and declaring, "Ahora sí, now amazing, amazing" (Now yes, now amazing).

Once the sound is perfect, she speaks directly to the listener. She introduces herself, "Hola, soy la rosalía" (Hello, I'm Rosalía), and acknowledges that you've made it all the way through her album. Her main message is a simple and sweet thank you: "Así que muchas gracias por escucharlo" (So thank you very much for listening to it). The track ends with a little laugh, making it a very charming and informal way to close the record.

Think of that one person who leaves absolute chaos everywhere they go, yet still acts completely full of themselves. In "La Perla", Spanish singer ROSALÍA and Mexican-American group Yahritza Y Su Esencia tear into a selfish ex with sharp humor. The song's title is deeply sarcastic: calling someone "una perla" ("a pearl") or "una de mucho cuidado" ("one to watch out for") is classic Spanish irony for a total fraud, a guy who wins the "medalla olímpica de oro al más cabrón" ("gold Olympic medal for biggest jerk"). He spends cash he does not have, freeloads in other people's apartments ("si puede vive en casa ajena"), and even when he goes to therapy, he lies through his teeth: "¿Pero de qué te sirve si siempre mientes más que hablas?" ("What good is it if you always lie more than you speak?").

There is plenty of great Spanish slang to learn here. Calling him "el rey de la trece catorce" taps into the phrase hacer la trece-catorce, a colloquial way to say someone is pulling a fast trick or scamming people. He is described as a "bala perdida" ("loose cannon" or "lost cause"), a "red flag andante" ("walking red flag"), and an "estrella de la sinrazón" ("star of foolishness") who blames his bad behavior on his doppelgänger. If you have ever crossed paths with an arrogant freeloader who thinks loyalty is a foreign language, this track will make you laugh while you study.

ROSALÍA's "MOTOMAMI" is a super short, powerful statement of who she is. The whole idea of a "Motomami" is about being two things at once. "Moto" brings the tough, motorcycle energy, while "Mami" is all about feminine power. She mixes these ideas with some amazing Japanese imagery. She says she is both "Fina la origami" (Delicate like origami) and "Cruda a lo sashimi" (Raw like sashimi). At the same time, her impact is huge, a "Hit a lo tsunami" (A hit like a tsunami).

She's also completely confident and has no time for anyone trying to copy her. She says, "yo no quiero competir / Si no hay comparación" (I don't want to compete / If there's no comparison). She warns you not to be fooled by a sweet exterior, comparing herself to a "bombón lleno de licor" (a bonbon full of liquor). She might look sweet, but she's got a strong kick inside.

ROSALÍA is ready to get rid of everything. She sings about burning a Rolls-Royce to create her own light and throwing away her expensive Jimmy Choo shoes. She plans to let her porcelain break and give away her piano. Why? Because she has found something much more valuable. She says, "Ya no quiero perlas ni caviar / Tu amor será mi capital" [I don't want pearls or caviar anymore / Your love will be my capital]. For her, true wealth is love, and with it, she feels she has nothing left to lose.

This new perspective changes everything. The past doesn't scare her anymore; she imagines it sinking to the bottom of her wine glass. The simple act of drinking Sauvignon Blanc with the person she loves is all she needs. It's in this moment that she feels her future is secure and bright, singing "Sauvignon Blanc a tu lado / Mi futuro será dorado" [Sauvignon Blanc by your side / My future will be golden]. It's a song about choosing love and peace over luxury.

ROSALÍA presents a world split in two in this song. She asks, "Quién pudiera vivir entre los dos" (Who could live between the two), setting up a contrast between the earthly and the divine. She's not choosing one over the other, but wants to experience both, deciding, "Primero amaré el mundo / Y luego amaré a Dios" (First I will love the world / And then I will love God). It's a bold statement that puts the physical world first.

She describes these two realms with some intense imagery. The first world, the one she'll love first, is made of "Sexo, violencia y llantas" (Sex, violence and tires) and "Deportes de sangre" (Blood sports). It's a gritty, modern, and dangerous place. The second world is the complete opposite, filled with "Destellos, palomas y santas" (Flashes of light, doves and saints). The song is a powerful meditation on wanting to exist in both the messy, real world and a more spiritual, graceful place, without having to give either one up.

ROSALÍA kicks off this song with a super specific memory of how a relationship started. She was 'Vestida con F de Fendi' [Dressed in Fendi] and 'Bailando Plan B, la de Candy' [Dancing to "Candy" by Plan B] when this person fell for her. It's a cool, confident look back at the beginning of something that's now over.

But don't let the sweet melody fool you. The rest of the song is about moving on. She says, 'Ya no te quiero como antes' [I don't love you like I used to] and admits that while the breakup hurt, 'Me rompiste, pero solo en parte' [You broke me, but only in part]. She's turned getting over him into a skill, claiming 'de olvidarte yo ya hice un arte' [I've made an art of forgetting you]. The whole time, she insists that he is the one who can't move on, repeating 'No me has olvidao'' [You haven't forgotten me] like a taunt.

This song is exactly what its title says: a promise. ROSALÍA and Rauw Alejandro sing about a deep commitment to each other, a love that follows the heart over the head. They make it clear with the line, "Pesa más el corazón que la razón" (The heart weighs more than reason). This isn't just a simple promise; it's a promise to build a whole life together, to never look back, and to find each other again even if they get lost. It's the kind of connection where they believe, "Si te perdiera / Sé que te volvería a encontrar" (If I lost you / I know I would find you again).

The best part is the list of all the things they want to do together. It's a mix of sweet, simple moments and grand adventures. They want to "comer cerezas contigo" (eat cherries with you), "subir todas las montañas" (climb all the mountains), and even "Pasear por la playa con caballos" (Walk on the beach with horses). The song builds this beautiful world where the most important thing is sharing every single experience, no matter how big or small, with the person you love.

ROSALÍA takes us on a trip around the world in "Reliquia," but it's not exactly a vacation. She lists all the things she's lost in different cities, from her smile in the U.K. to her faith in D.C. Some losses are huge, like when she says, "Yo que perdí mis manos en Jerez / Y mis ojos en Roma" (I, who lost my hands in Jerez / And my eyes in Rome). Others are more specific, like losing a bad love affair in Madrid or her bad temper in Berlin. It's a map of a life lived hard, where every place takes a piece of her.

But here's the twist. After listing everything she's lost, she reveals the one thing that was never hers to lose: her heart. She sings, "Pero mi corazón nunca ha sido mío / Yo siempre lo doy" (But my heart has never been mine / I always give it away). She offers a piece of herself to someone, asking them to keep it. She wants to be their "reliquia" (relic), a sacred object to remember her by. It's a beautiful and intense way to talk about love and memory.

ROSALÍA has a wild idea for her own funeral, and it sounds like the best party ever. She's not planning a quiet, sad day. Instead, she wants a huge celebration where everyone, even her enemies, shows up to cry for her: "Hasta mis enemigos / Hoy lloran" (Even my enemies / are crying today). She asks her friends and family to throw magnolias, but that's just the start. She imagines motorcycles burning rubber on her coffin, people dancing on her body, and everyone enjoying gasoline, red wine, cigars, and chocolate.

This isn't just about throwing a party, though. It's a powerful way of looking at life and death. She imagines a life so full of challenges that she says, "Algún que otro navajazo me he llevado de la vida" (I've taken a knife wound or two from life). But instead of being bitter, she's grateful. The song is her instruction manual for how to remember her: not with sadness, but with a massive, loving, and slightly chaotic celebration that makes up for anything she didn't get to do while she was alive.

In "LA FAMA" vertelt ROSALÍA een verhaal over een gebroken hart, maar de schuldige is niet een andere persoon. Het is de roem zelf. Ze begint heel persoonlijk: "Lo que pasó / A ti te lo cuento" (Wat er gebeurde / vertel ik je). Ze had een speciale relatie, "Yo tenía mi bebé" (Ik had mijn schatje), maar ze raakte geobsedeerd door iets wat hem pijn deed: haar ambitie.

De roem wordt voorgesteld als een gevaarlijke, onbetrouwbare minnares. ROSALÍA waarschuwt ons: "Es mala amante la fama / No va a quererte de verdad" (Roem is een slechte minnares / Ze zal niet echt van je houden). Ze is verraderlijk en kan je elk moment verlaten. Het is een harde les over de prijs van succes en de offers die je soms moet brengen voor je carrière. De obsessie is zo sterk dat ze zingt: "No hay manera / De que esta obsesión se me fuera" (Er is geen manier / waarop deze obsessie weggaat).

Get ready for a fun one! "CHICKEN TERIYAKI" is ROSALÍA's playful celebration of her success, fame, and money. She's living a fast, luxurious life, especially in New York City, where she's "visitando a mi joyero" [visiting my jeweler] and "patinando para los heights" [skating to the Heights]. The whole song is a series of confident boasts, from wanting a chain so expensive it could "arruine toda la cuenta" [ruin the whole bank account] to acknowledging the downside of fame with the very blunt line: "Y sí, la fama es una condena / Pero dime otra que te pague la cena" [And yes, fame is a curse / But tell me another that pays for your dinner].

What makes the song so great is its funny, almost random energy. The title itself comes from the line "Para ti naki, chicken teriyaki" [For you, nothing, chicken teriyaki], which is a playful way of dismissing someone. She contrasts her world with others, saying "Tu gata quiere maki, mi gata en kawasaki" [Your girl wants maki (sushi), my girl is on a Kawasaki]. It's a short, high-energy track that feels like a stream of consciousness from someone who knows she's on top of the world and is having a great time with it.

This song is the ultimate anthem for when you're done with someone and ready to have fun. ROSALÍA kicks things off by telling her ex, "Baby, no me llames / Que yo estoy ocupada olvidando tus males" (Baby, don't call me / I'm busy forgetting your bad deeds). She's not sitting at home feeling sad; instead, she's decided "que esta noche se sale / Con todas mis motomamis" (that tonight we're going out / With all my motomamis). She's feeling "despechada, alocada" (spiteful, wild) and is channeling all that energy into a night out with her friends.

She makes it crystal clear she's never going back, singing "Que dios me libre de volver a tu lado" (May God save me from returning to your side). The whole vibe is about feeling yourself and leaving the drama behind. She's got a new look, a new flow, and she's hitting the dance floor. She even spells it out for her ex, just in case he didn't get the message: "A, b, c, one, two, three... Que esta motomami ya no está para ti" (A, b, c, one, two, three... This motomami isn't for you anymore). It's a fun, powerful track about choosing yourself and your friends over a bad relationship.

ROSALÍA kicks off this song with a simple count-up before hitting us with one of her best lines: some people think they're special, "como un año en miami que nieva" (like a year it snows in Miami). It's a funny and sharp way to talk about people with big egos. The song's main idea is a call for humility, telling everyone to "Keep it cute, 'manito, keep it cute / Que aquí el mejor artista es dios" (Keep it cute, bro, keep it cute / Because here the best artist is God). She suggests we should look for beauty in the world around us, like "mariposas sueltas por la calle" (butterflies loose in the street), instead of focusing on ourselves.

Then the song takes a surprising turn. After repeating the NATO phonetic alphabet ("A de alfa / B de brava / C de charlie"), she drops a reference to "Crashed, lady d"—Princess Diana—and a plea to be taken far away. It's a sudden shift into a darker, more personal space that feels like a stream of consciousness. This contrast between the confident, philosophical advice and the vulnerable plea for escape at the end makes the song really interesting.

"La Yugular" opens with a question: how many fights live in the lines of your palm, how many stories fit into twenty-one grams? Then it turns straight to the person she's singing to, calling them "Tú que estas lejos / Y a la vez más cerca" [You who are far away / Yet somehow closer] than her own jugular vein, which is the whole song in one image: someone absent who still sits closer than a vessel under your own skin. A few lines later the same devotion gets sung in Arabic, tearing down heaven and hell for this person, no vows attached.

The middle stretch turns into a spiraling chant of nesting scales: "Yo quepo en el mundo / Y el mundo cabe en mí" [I fit inside the world / And the world fits in me]. It keeps zooming down, a country into a splinter, a splinter into a whole galaxy, a glass of milk swallowing an army, until "El Titanic cabe en un pintalabios" [The Titanic fits inside a lipstick] and finally God fits inside her chest. The last minute drops Spanish for a spoken English outro counting heavens, closing on "Break on through the other side" [Break on through the other side] and "A million doors aren't enough" [A million doors aren't enough], which after that build of impossible scales lands like the only sane conclusion.

This song is a straight-up declaration of loyalty between two partners in crime. The main idea is right there in the title and the hook: "Yo por ti, tú por mí" (Me for you, you for me). ROSALÍA and Ozuna trade lines about being a powerful, successful duo who have each other's backs no matter what. They're living a life of luxury, "rodeá' de flores y billete'" (surrounded by flowers and bills), and they dare anyone to get in their way.

It's a classic "us against the world" story, but with a modern, glamorous twist. The commitment is intense. ROSALÍA says she'd let them put her in handcuffs for her partner: "que me pongan los grillete'" (let them put me in handcuffs). Ozuna is just as devoted, saying he'd spend all his money just to see her happy: "Lo que tengo lo gastaría porque tus ojos, ma'i, brillarían" (I would spend what I have so your eyes, girl, would shine). They see themselves as a legendary pair, "dos cantantes como los de antes" (two singers like the ones from before), whose mutual respect is measured in success and diamonds.

This song is a wild ride through an intense, all-consuming love affair. ROSALÍA starts with a romantic scene: "Tú y yo perdidos / Entre amapolas" (You and I lost / Among poppies). But this isn't just a sweet love song. The very next lines compare her lover's eyes to weapons: "Tus ojos relucen / Son dos pistolas" (Your eyes shine / They are two pistols). This person has completely changed her. She says, "Antes de ti, yo era lo peor" (Before you, I was the worst), and now she's given up her bad habits. This love is so powerful it feels like fate, her ultimate destination: "Tú eres mi omega" (You are my omega).

But the song also makes a powerful statement about identity. ROSALÍA declares she can be two opposite things at once: "Puedo ser Céline Dion y un tíguere" (I can be Céline Dion and a tiger). A tíguere is a Dominican slang term for a tough, street-smart guy. So she's saying she can be both a powerful, emotional singer and a cool, tough player. She contains multitudes! This isn't just about being in love; it's about being free to be everything you want to be, even when it seems contradictory.

Get ready to fly, because "Con Altura" is all about living life at the highest level. ROSALÍA kicks things off by declaring, "Esto vamos a arrancarlo con altura" [We're going to start this with height/style]. This isn't just a party song; she's making a statement about excellence and legacy. She mixes old-school influences with a modern flex, name-dropping salsa legend Héctor Lavoe for his "sabrosura" [flavor] and flamenco icon Camarón de la Isla, who she keeps in her glove compartment. It's a powerful way of saying she carries the weight and artistry of her culture with her, even while putting "rosas sobre el Panamera" [roses on the Panamera], a super expensive car.

The song's chorus is a bold, almost reckless, claim about the artist's lifestyle: "Vivo rápido y no tengo cura / Iré joven pa' la sepultura" [I live fast and I have no cure / I'll go to the grave young]. It's a classic rock-and-roll attitude dropped into a reggaeton beat. She insists that her work will last forever, a legacy built on "demasia' noches de travesura" [too many nights of mischief]. When J Balvin jumps in, he keeps the high-flying party vibe going, inviting everyone to get lost in the moment. The whole track feels like a celebration of success, ambition, and living life with unforgettable style.

ROSALÍA is not here to be anyone's sweet little treat. That's the message right from the start of this super short, super confident track. She repeats, "Yo no soy y ni vi'a ser tu bizcochito" (I'm not and I'm not going to be your little cake). She rejects being seen as something small or cute, instead declaring she has "to' lo que tiene delito" (everything that's a crime). It's a bold statement about her own power and appeal, and she's not afraid to say it.

She brushes off any hate coming her way, saying "El mal de ojo que me manden me lo quito" (I remove any evil eye they send me). The song is full of these confident lines. She claims her success isn't luck, it's earned: "No basé mi carrera en tener hits / Tengo hits porque yo senté las base'" (I didn't base my career on having hits / I have hits because I laid the foundations). She's in control, and she wants everyone to know it.

Have you ever felt like you wanted to press a reset button on the whole world? That's the feeling at the center of this song by Spanish artist ROSALÍA. She expresses a deep wish to leave her current reality behind in search of something more authentic and real.

She sings, "Yo quisiera renegar / De este mundo por entero" [I wish I could renounce / This entire world], which is a pretty intense way to say you're fed up. The whole point of this escape is to see if in a "mundo nuevo" [new world], she could find "más verdad" [more truth]. It's a powerful search for honesty when the world around you feels like it's lacking it.

Dit korte spoor voelt alsof je per ongeluk een gezellige voice-memo van ROSALÍA afluistert. Ze start met wat microfoontests in de studio: "A ver, a ver, hola, hola" (Eens even kijken, hallo, hallo) en schakelt daarna soepel over op Engels omdat ze haar eigen zangvolume zoekt: "I don't hear my voice so much" (Ik hoor mijn stem niet zo goed). Zodra de techniek meewerkt, hoor je haar spontane opluchting: "Ahora sí, now amazing, amazing" (Nu wel, nu geweldig).

Daarna stelt ze zich simpelweg voor met haar vaste handelsmerk: "Hola, soy la rosalía" (Hallo, ik ben ROSALÍA). Ze bedankt je rechtstreeks omdat je haar hele album hebt uitgezeten: "Y has escuchado motomami, parece ser que hasta el final, así que muchas gracias por escucharlo" (En je hebt geluisterd naar Motomami, blijkbaar helemaal tot het einde, dus heel erg bedankt voor het luisteren). Het nummer stopt midden in een zinnetje met een vrolijke verspreking: "Ups, jajaja" (Oeps, hahaha). Een ontwapenende afsluiter rechtstreeks uit de opnamecabine!