Una Bala fires straight into the heart of post-breakup regret. Over a moody Urbano beat, Milo J narrates the story of a “corazón de vagabundo” that suddenly loses its home when his girl walks away. He is torn between anger and longing, asking the moon if she also lies awake thinking of him while admitting that fancy gifts meant nothing next to the love he never quite knew how to show. The bala (bullet) becomes a plea for one last shot at love, a dramatic image of how desperately he wants a do-over.
When Peso Pluma joins in, the confession deepens: blurred WhatsApp photos, late-night drinks, and the emptiness of cruising to reggaetón without her. Both voices paint missing someone as an art form so valuable their imagined portraits would be worth a million. In the end, the track is a bittersweet blend of swagger and vulnerability, reminding listeners that even the toughest street poet can be haunted by the what ifs of a love he let slip away.