More songs by Junior Zamora
Description
Associated Performer: Junior Zamora
Composer: Wilbert Zamora Grueso
Mixing Engineer, Mastering Engineer: CRIVAS
Producer: Zar
Lyrics and translation
Original
Hey, negra.
Yo no soy de decirte este tipo de cosas, pero. . .
a lo bien te dedico esta canción. ¿Cómo te ves? ¿Dónde estarás?
Que todos me hablan de ti.
Quiero creer que no es real, no tenía que terminar así.
Yo no soy quién para pedirte nada y menos condiciones.
Sabes, soy un tonto pidiéndolo perdones.
Pero lo que no sabes tú es que las otras no son tú. No huelen crimson, nice or good.
Nadie me besa como tú.
Y lo que yo sé de ti no te lo cambia un nuevo look.
Igual ya eso te lo advertí, que nadie baila como tú.
Dicen: "J, no es para tanto". ¿Cómo te afecta tanto que ya no puedes ni dormir?
No. Problemas, ojeras y estrés, náuseas, track y timidez.
La taquicardia andando a mil. Tu perfume me daña los fines de semana.
Qué molestas las cafés ahora por mis mañanas.
Serie que buscamos toda ayer, la repetí, pero no se siente igual sin ti. No, no. No sé por qué te insisto tanto.
No sé cómo dejarte ir.
No soy de rezarle a los santos y les pedí que te cuiden por mí, no.
Traté de aprender más idiomas, pero ninguno pude entenderte.
Te sabes todas mis manos.
Pero lo que no sabes tú es que las otras no son tú. No huelen crimson, nice or good.
Nadie me besa como tú.
Y lo que yo sé de ti no te lo cambia un nuevo look.
Igual ya eso te lo advertí, que nadie baila como tú.
One, two. Dímelo, mami.
Pa' que le agregues a tu playlist, baby.
English translation
Hey, black.
I'm not one to tell you these kinds of things, but. . .
Well, I dedicate this song to you. How do you look? Where will you be?
That everyone tells me about you.
I want to believe it's not real, it didn't have to end like this.
I am not the one to ask you for anything, much less conditions.
You know, I'm a fool asking for forgiveness.
But what you don't know is that the others are not you. They don't smell crimson, nice or good.
Nobody kisses me like you.
And what I know about you is not changed by a new look.
Maybe I warned you that, that no one dances like you.
They say, "J, it's no big deal." How does it affect you so much that you can't even sleep anymore?
No. Problems, dark circles and stress, nausea, track and shyness.
The tachycardia going on a thousand. Your perfume hurts me on weekends.
How annoying coffee is now for my mornings.
Series we looked for all yesterday, I repeated it, but it doesn't feel the same without you. No no. I don't know why I insist so much.
I don't know how to let you go.
I'm not one to pray to saints and I asked them to take care of you for me, no.
I tried to learn more languages, but I couldn't understand any of them.
You know all my hands.
But what you don't know is that the others are not you. They don't smell crimson, nice or good.
Nobody kisses me like you.
And what I know about you is not changed by a new look.
Maybe I warned you that, that no one dances like you.
One, two. Tell me, mommy.
So you can add it to your playlist, baby.