Habibi is Ghali’s laid-back love letter to a partner who turns everyday chaos into a slow-motion adventure. From smoking top-shelf weed in different European cities to sipping red wine while binge-watching space documentaries, the couple build a private universe filled with good food, sweet aromas and inside jokes. Ghali likens their time together to “going to paradise without dying,” a rose with no thorns, showing how this relationship softens the rough edges of city life.
Yet the song is not just dreamy escapism. Between the playful Arabic hook “Habibi, habibi” (meaning my love) and cheeky lines about using her as an excuse with his mom, Ghali slips in real-world tension: fake friends, nosy gossip, the feeling that people ignore you when you’re thirsty but crowd you when you finally drink. He confesses youthful ambitions of being a pilot, only to realize he doesn’t want to fly solo; she is his refuge when doors close. Blending Italian street slang, Arabic endearment and pop melodies, “Habibi” celebrates multicultural love as the ultimate high—one that helps you smoke the mess away, drink the problems down and still stay on your feet when the music stops.