Olé Olé

Olé, olé, olé, olé, olé
Olé, olé, olé, olé, olé
Olé, olé, olé, olé, olé
Olé, olé, olé, olé, olé

The rhythm begins, with its seasoning
I'm already burning
And rightly comes the swaying black
And your waist is like a wave
And you're already moving so tasty
And don't tell me olé, baby olé baby olé
And if I'm not a bullfighter, and if I'm not a bullfighter
Olé
Because they call me olé

Olé, olé, olé, olé, olé
Olé, olé, olé, olé, olé
Olé, olé, olé, olé, olé
Olé, olé, olé, olé, olé

There on the field
Everyone shouts and tells me olé
If someone mocks me, takes the ball from me
Gives me a waist, and makes me dance
And that's when everyone tells me olé, olé
Why could it be
And if I'm not a bullfighter, and if I'm not a bullfighter
Olé
Because they call me olé

Olé, olé, olé, olé, olé
I'm not a bullfighter or a defender
Olé, olé, olé, olé, olé
And I'm not on the soccer field
Olé, olé, olé, olé, olé
That I'm not a bullfighter or a defender
Olé, olé, olé, olé, olé
And I'm not on the soccer field
Olé