
Alemán is a dynamic rapper and hip-hop artist hailing from Mexico, known for his sharp lyrics and engaging flow that resonate with fans across Latin America. Emerging from the vibrant Mexican hip-hop scene, he blends traditional rhythms with contemporary beats to create a unique sound that stands out.
With numerous successful albums and collaborations, Alemán has established himself as a prominent figure in Latin urban music. His music not only entertains but also reflects personal and social themes, making him an influential voice in the genre.
"Te Quería Ver" brings Mexican rapper Alemán and singer Neton Vega together for a late-night hookup anthem that skips the small talk. The hook lays it all out immediately with "Te quería ver / Sólo un ratito volverte a tener" ("I wanted to see you / Just for a little bit to hold you again"). It kicks off with a simple DM slide: "Le tiré por el Insta, sólo le dije: 'Hola'" ("I messaged her on Insta, I just said: 'Hello'"). From there, the vibe switches to flexes and promises of luxury, showing off stacks of cash with "pa' comprarte todo tengo un chingo de dollars" ("to buy you everything I have a shitload of dollars"), designer names like Cartier, Versace, and Chanel, plus high-end handbags ordered straight from Italy.
Alemán packs the lyrics with heavy Mexican slang you will hear on the street. He calls himself el patrón (the boss) and calls her la patrona, before bragging that "Me pongo belicón, tú te pones belicona" ("I get rowdy/warlike, you get rowdy/warlike"), using belicón to describe an intense, badass attitude. He mentions carrying protection with "aquí cargo una tola" (slang for packing a gun) and says he likes her style "machín" (slang meaning "a ton" or "heavily"). He drops a nod to his real-life crew Homegrown Mafia while demanding she put her phone on airplane mode ("Ponte en modo avión") so they can tune out the rest of the world completely.
"Delivery" is a hard-hitting Mexican rap banger where Alemán teams up with Peso Pluma to lay out the gritty, relentless mechanics of cross-border smuggling. Right from the hook—"Mucho criminal, todo es coludido / Mandando los kilos para Estados Unidos" ("Lots of criminals, everyone is colluding / Sending the kilos to the United States")—they set a blunt, unfiltered scene. The title plays on the idea of shipping goods like an everyday postal service, except the packages moving north are illegal contraband that always arrives on schedule. Along the way, the track is packed with regional slang. When they drop "Culichi", they are talking about Culiacán, the capital of Sinaloa. The line "en el gaba" uses Mexican street slang (el gabacho) to refer to the United States, while calling customers "los güeros" ("the light-skinned folks" or "the blondes").
Beyond the logistics of moving weight by boat, plane, or car, the lyrics flex designer gear and lavish spending once a deal pays off. Alemán and Peso Pluma boast about outfits decked out in Fendi and Dior, cruising in Dodge Challengers, and splurging on wild parties in Cabo. There is also a cold, cynical realism about the trade itself. In one of the sharpest verses, the track points out the endless supply chain: "este negocio, si no lo hago yo, lo hará otro / Y después de ese cabrón, otro y otro" ("this business, if I don't do it, someone else will / And after that bastard, another and another"). It is boastful, street-smart rap that treats international smuggling like an unstoppable machine.
In this track, Mexican rapper Alemán paints a vivid picture of a raw and passionate romance. He describes a relationship that is intensely physical, using aggressive imagery like pinning his partner against the wall. The woman he's with is attracted to his tough, "malandro" (thug) persona, but she also appreciates romantic gestures like being bought flowers in the club. They share a lifestyle of luxury cars like Porsches and G-Wagons, late-night food runs, and smoking together.
Despite the tough exterior and explicit descriptions of their physical connection, the song's core message is surprisingly tender. The key line, "Más que a la calle te estoy amando" (I'm loving you more than the street), reveals a deep emotional vulnerability. For someone who identifies with the street life, this is a powerful declaration, showing that his love for her outweighs everything else. It's a story of finding a connection so strong that it becomes more important than the lifestyle you once lived for.
In "Vino Tinto," Mexican rapper Alemán compares his musical style, or flow, to a fine wine that only gets better with age. He boasts about his success and luxurious ambitions, dreaming of owning houses in exclusive Mexican locations like Cancún and Los Cabos. This isn't just a new dream; he says he's been working towards this life since he was a kid and he's not finished yet. He contrasts his authentic journey with the "plastic life" of others, feeling that while many people act real, few are truly genuine.
The song also explores a complex and intense relationship. Alemán describes his partner as his "Trinity" (a reference to The Matrix), someone he would go to war for like Rambo. Their connection is so powerful he calls her his "trip," like a powerful psychedelic experience. However, the relationship is also volatile; one moment they are lovers, the next they are "enemies." He playfully blames this on her being a Gemini, highlighting the passionate and unpredictable nature of their bond.
In "Ya No," which translates to "Not Anymore," Mexican rapper Alemán declares his independence from fake friends and a toxic environment. He's done helping people who never showed any gratitude, singing, "Ahora ya no, toda la ayuda se les acabó" (Not anymore, all the help is over for you). He feels he's given too much and can't waste any more time on people who are full of envy and lies.
Alemán paints a picture of a world where people who hug you are also secretly aiming a gun at you. His solution? To escape. He chooses to get away from it all with his loved one, finding peace in the simple things: listening to music in his truck, being at the beach with his dog and his partner, and watching the stars. In this personal paradise, luxury brands like Gucci and Prada mean nothing. It's a powerful statement about leaving negativity behind to focus on what truly matters: genuine connection and inner peace.
In "Blessed," Mexican rapper Alemán tells a powerful story of overcoming life's toughest challenges. The song is a declaration of victory against the temptations of the streets, including "las armas, la droga, la calle, el dinero" (weapons, drugs, the street, money). He repeats the phrase "No me venció" (He/It didn't defeat me), emphasizing that despite facing negativity and even physical threats like bullets being shot at him, he remains untouched and undefeated.
So, what's his secret? Alemán credits his strength to a powerful combination of faith in God and unshakeable faith in himself. He feels his soul has "blindaje" (armor) and that he is always "blessed" even when others wish him harm. He rejects a life of materialism, which he says leaves people with a "mente llena de pura chatarra" (a mind full of pure junk), and instead focuses on his goals and staying true to himself. The song is an anthem for anyone who has faced adversity and come out stronger on the other side.
In "Hasta Galápagos," Alemán paints a picture of a passionate and intense romance that feels like a whirlwind trip. The song uses the idea of a journey to exotic places like the Galápagos Islands and Barbados as a metaphor for the couple's deep connection. What started as a casual game has blossomed into love, as he says, "Era un juego, y ahora, solo míranos / Enamorados" (It was a game, and now, just look at us / In love).
The lyrics are filled with sensual and explicit imagery, describing their physical intimacy as a form of tribute or worship. The central metaphor, "La cama es la nave, y nos fuimos de viaje" (The bed is the ship, and we went on a trip), suggests that their most profound adventures happen in the bedroom. The song celebrates a powerful physical and emotional bond, where the outside world fades away and the only thing that matters is their shared experience, described as a private journey for two.
Have you ever met someone and felt an instant connection, even if you didn't catch their name? That's exactly what Alemán, Gera MX, and Jambene are singing about in "Te Encontré" (I Found You). The song kicks off with the feeling of finding someone special, "Saliendo de la oscuridad te encontré" (Coming out of the darkness I found you), and the immediate spark is undeniable. Our singer is captivated, even admitting, "No me sé su nombre" (I don't know her name), but he's drawn to her unique vibe, seeing her as "diferente" (different) from everyone else.
He remembers her green eyes and deep gaze, feeling an instant bond: "Me encariñé sin miedo, no quise hacer más preguntas" (I grew fond without fear, I didn't want to ask more questions). He's so smitten he even thinks, "Sus manos son arte, podría tatuarte el futuro" (Her hands are art, she could tattoo your future). But then, a sudden twist! He steps away for an urgent call about his sick father, and when he returns, she's gone. He's desperate to find her, wondering if her name was Juliana, and only sure that "es latina, es mexicana" (she's Latina, she's Mexican). It's a fun, relatable story about a fleeting but intense connection, and the regret of not getting all the details before she disappeared.
In "Crema," Mexican rapper Alemán paints a picture of a life split in two. On one hand, he describes a world of success and luxury: getting off a plane to a VIP welcome, traveling with four full suitcases, and having enough outfits for any time of day or weather. He turns his pain into profit, boasting about sold-out concerts and hit songs. The phrase "la crema" itself means "the cream" or "the best," highlighting his top-tier status.
But beneath the surface of success, there's a struggle with a past relationship. Alemán admits his fear of an ex-lover getting back into his head, remembering how he used to drop everything for her. He sings about breaking those chains and turning his sorrows into money, but he also reveals that this person still occupies his thoughts. He finds temporary relief in his financial success ("contando los ceros" or "counting the zeros"), but he's searching for a different kind of reward beyond just money.
In "El Sabor Del Éxito (Outro)," which translates to "The Taste of Success," Mexican rapper Alemán reflects on his journey and celebrates his achievements. He describes his path as anything but easy, admitting that he has cried along the way. Now, however, he is "full of shine," with trophies in his hallway and a champion's ring. He emphasizes that this success wasn't built alone, giving credit to his loyal crew who built a "castle brick by brick" and are willing to protect him.
Alemán also offers a warning about the nature of success. While it tastes great, like an "elixir of the gods," he cautions that it can also make you dizzy and that a fall from the top is a painful one that no painkiller can fix. He ends the song by shouting out his entire team, from producers to his guitarist, making it clear that his success is a shared victory. The track serves as a final toast on his album, celebrating hard work, loyalty, and the complex flavor of making it to the top.
Alemán, Gera MX, and C. Tangana bring us a track that's all about celebrating success while still remembering where they came from. They're on a yacht with a full moon, enjoying the good life with
“Humo En La Trampa 2” is a smoky, boastful party track built around cannabis, friendship, and rap bravado. The repeated chant “Échelo, loco” [Pass it, man] and “A ver, ¿qué están fumando?” [Let’s see, what are you smoking?] invite everyone into the room. The lyrics describe vaporizers, blunts, bongs, fresh flower, and a new harvest, while the speakers joke that the smoke is so strong it can make a beginner dizzy. “De viaje, sin equipaje” [On a trip, with no luggage] means getting high and drifting into an altered state, not taking a real journey. The flying saucer, clouds, arrows, and smoke rising into someone’s head all turn that feeling into playful space imagery.
The song also mixes laid-back scenes with loud self-confidence. The narrator walks through the park, talks to his dog “como Charlie Brown” [like Charlie Brown], drinks coffee with rap, and hangs out with his “compadres” [close friends]. Then the jokes become deliberately excessive: expensive strains arrive from New York, a gas mask is tested, the room fills with smoke, and everyone becomes “bien zombie” [really zombie-like]. “Que se jodan los cochis” [screw the cops] adds a rebellious edge, while “puro verde radioactivo” [only radioactive green] makes the weed sound almost cartoonishly powerful. It is funny, blunt, and packed with Mexican street slang, English phrases, brand and strain names, and a simple idea: pass the smoke, relax, and let the rap session get higher.
“Casa en la Montaña 2” opens with a joke that quickly turns uncomfortable. The narrator asks himself, “¿Qué tan común es?, ¿qué tanto consumes?” [How common is it, how much do you use?] while his mouth goes numb, then admits he is using cocaine even though he knows he does not need it. The “Okay, boomer” reply to his reflection is funny, but the joke sits beside a serious warning: something that begins “por diversión” [for fun] can grow through ambition, money, respect, and the thrill of action. One decision can bring a reward, or send someone to prison. The lyrics also use street slang: “la popo” means the police, “mota” means marijuana, and “perico” means cocaine.
The song then moves from dealing and easy money to the damage behind that life. “Dinero sucio, fácil llega, fácil se te acaba” [Dirty money comes easily and disappears easily] leads to an ending with nothing left. Dee, FNTXY, Yoga Fire, Phull King Fu, and Muelas De Gallo add verses full of smoke, police checkpoints, drugs hidden in cars, and a man who says he supported his family by selling drugs. His mother cries, his son hates him, and he owes another year in prison. Even the lighter details, like “Aventuras en Pañales” [Rugrats] and its baby character Carlitos, make the narrator sound foolish and worn out. The final image is blunt: the street is poisonous, and in a place where “el malo se come a los buenos” [the bad person eats the good ones], survival comes with a heavy price.
“Lingotes” is a swagger-heavy money anthem built around a clever metaphor: Aleman says his rap lines are worth gold, calling them “barras de oro, lingotes” [gold bars, ingots]. He boasts about winning, turning 100 into a million, and staying ahead of the fashion and competition. The slang makes the confidence feel even bigger: “bien locote” means acting wild or intensely, “mami” is an informal way to address a woman, and “frontear” means to show off or talk big. When he says “A ti te dice ‘papi’, a mí me llaman ‘padrote’” [they call you ‘daddy’, they call me ‘big shot’], he is comparing ordinary status with his own larger-than-life image. The Rolex joke is especially fun: he could buy one, but would rather have beans, mezcal, and a simple meal.
Under all that flexing, the lyrics reveal a cost. He admits, “A mis hermanos fallé, a mi mujer la perdí / Mis valores olvidé, a mi mamá hice sufrir” [I failed my brothers, lost my woman, forgot my values, and made my mother suffer]. He still sees an ex’s face when he looks at Instagram, even while chasing dollars and surviving on the “ola” [wave] of success. Football language appears in “3-0 en el tablero” [3-0 on the scoreboard] and “el catenaccio al área y pincho la bola” [defensive play into the box, then I chip the ball], turning his career into a match he expects to win. “Merca” refers to drugs in this context, while “alucín” describes someone acting flashy, fantasizing, or caught up in a rich-and-famous image. The result is a funny, reckless voice that can brag about easy money in one breath and say “perdón” [sorry] to someone he hurt in the next.
“Waves” feels like a sunny day that starts with the right crew, a truck, and nowhere important to be. Alemán opens with “Hoy desperté contento porque hay buenas olas” [Today I woke up happy because the waves are good], then adds “Buena mota, buena vibra, buena es la hora” [Good weed, good vibes, it’s a good time]. Here, “mota” is slang for marijuana, while “suelta la chora” means stop the talk or drop the chatter. “Sobres, morra” is a casual “let’s go, girl,” and the Tacoma is his pickup truck, rolling as the sun comes up. The repeated “Sólo saca, prende y rola” [Just take it out, light it, and pass it around] gives the hook a simple, smoky rhythm.
The day moves through named streets such as Vicente Guerrero and Madero, with friends, mezcal, tequila, lime, and salt before the crew heads toward the sea. “Olas vienen, olas van, sólo floto, no hay plan” [Waves come, waves go, I just float, there’s no plan] sums up the song’s easygoing attitude. Still, there is more than partying: he calls his close friends the family he chose, says goodbye to someone he will always miss, and urges listeners to find their inner fire: “Se encuentra dentro de tu alma, tienes que encenderlo” [It is inside your soul, you have to light it]. Yung Sarria’s English and Spanish section adds a harder edge, with love being rejected, fake apologies, missions, money, and the drama that follows. Together, the lyrics move between beach-day freedom, loyalty to real friends, and the idea that your own fire can push you forward.
Aleman, Dee, and FNTXY turn an ordinary craving for a caguama, a large bottle of beer, into a chaotic day in the neighborhood. The narrator wakes up wanting a drink, but the streets are full of trouble, police, closed shops, and soldiers. He complains, “Me chingo todo el puto lomo toda la puta semana” [I bust my ass all damn week], then adds, “Es para mi familia y no pa' que usted me quite la lana” [It’s for my family, not for you to take my money]. “Lana” means money, and the repeated hook makes his anger clear: he works hard, but he feels the police are taking advantage of him.
The story gets more reckless and absurd as the day continues. He mentions beer, marijuana, cocaine, a loud truck, a traffic stop, gunfire, and officers searching his home while he is playing video games. “Los cerdos” means “the pigs,” a harsh slang term for the police, which explains the title “Pinches Puercos,” or “damn pigs.” The final scene has him handcuffed in a van, losing the money in his pockets, and being told to speak to the judge. The song’s blunt humor comes from the contrast between his simple wish for a caguama and the ridiculous chain of trouble that follows.
Aleman, a Mexican artist, gives this song a sharp mix of success, emptiness, and street life. He opens with “Me estás matando” [You’re killing me], then contrasts “Un concierto lleno, una alma vacía” [A full concert, an empty soul]. The crowd is there, but he feels hollow. He talks about calling “al bueno” [the right guy, or a trusted contact] instead of the police, remembering his barrio while trying to forget his own life, and living with daily “loqueras” [wild behavior or reckless episodes]. The barrio is “caliente” [hot or dangerous], while his movements are smooth enough for a quick “goodbye love.” His references to tango, Rambo, and Valdez make him sound passionate, tough, and a little theatrical all at once.
Then the song turns toward someone who is gone. At six in the morning, he sits by the beach with a bottle, thinking about this person and wishing they were there. “Pero ni pedo, así fue” [But whatever, that’s how it was] is a Mexican expression of bitter acceptance. He says, “Te moriste” [You died], followed by “Fuck you! Jódete, vete al demonio!” [Fuck you! Screw you, go to hell!], so grief and anger crash into each other. He claims he left to forget, imagines himself sitting on a unicorn, and says he has gone a week without sleep, blaming “puro gallo y el perico” [cocaine and other drugs, in slang] rather than insomnia. It is funny in a dark, exaggerated way, but the empty soul, the beach at dawn, and the sleepless nights keep pulling the song back to someone he cannot escape.
Get ready for a powerful collaboration between two giants of Mexican rap, Alemán and Gera MX. In "Abran Paso," which means "Make Way," the rappers declare their dominance in the music scene. They present themselves as masters of their craft, with a unique style that everyone wants a piece of. The lyrics paint a picture of artists at the top of their game, comparing their addictive music to a drug and their skill to a clinical practice where everyone is a patient. They boast about their ability to destroy any beat and how their creative flow is always growing, or floreciendo (flourishing), just like cannabis.
The song is also a story of their journey and loyalty. Gera MX and Alemán reflect on their long careers, starting from underground shows in bodegas (warehouses) to achieving massive success. They emphasize that they were already dominating the scene when newcomers were just starting. They mention their crews, Homegrown Mafia and Rich Vagos, teaming up to show their united strength. It's a track full of confidence, celebrating their hard-earned success while warning competitors to step aside because this unstoppable duo, or dupla galáctica (galactic duo), is taking over.
Play "Mírame Ma" and you are instantly teleported to a sweaty club where neon lights bounce off gold chains and no one can stand still. Mexican rapper Alemán teams up with Spanish hit-maker Rels B to deliver a reggaetón-trap anthem that is all about swagger, flirtation, and losing yourself on the dance floor. The hook “Ay, ay, mírame, mami, estilo cabrón” is a playful command: Look at me, girl, check my killer style. Every verse circles around the thrill of dancing so hard you step on someone’s shoes, the adrenaline of a packed venue, and the cheeky confidence that comes with living la vida loca from Mexico to Mallorca.
Behind the party vibe there is a celebration of freedom—modern Latin culture, shared moments with friends, and the joy of good weed, bass-heavy speakers, and unfiltered fun. The lyrics flex success and street credibility, yet they never stop inviting the listener to join the fiesta. If you want a soundtrack that screams “turn up the volume, forget your worries, and move like an animal,” this track is it.
Alemán, joined here by Akapellah and Dezzy Hollow, delivers a blunt, late-night fantasy built around sex, drugs, fame, and the temporary rush of the after-party. The narrator meets a woman after a show, brings her to his dressing room, and imagines taking her home. He makes his intentions unmistakable: “Hoy no vine a conversar” [I didn’t come here to talk]. The song uses very direct sexual slang, so its tone is deliberately provocative rather than romantic. Lines such as “Entrégate y mañana si te he visto no me acuerdo” [Give yourself to me, and tomorrow I’ll act as if I never saw you] show that he wants a one-night encounter with no promises.
The lyrics also mix pleasure with a rapper’s nightlife world: molly, marijuana, cocaine, smoke, expensive clothes, a Porsche, and the pressure to put his gang first. “Hay miles como tú buscando pito en Instagram” [There are thousands like you looking for dick on Instagram] reduces the encounter to something replaceable, which makes the narrator sound boastful, careless, and intentionally crude. The repeated “what it do” is an English street greeting, while “Big Papa” is a playful nickname during the sexual performance. Even the reference to Indiana Jones turns sex into an exaggerated adventure, with the woman’s body described as a “selva” [jungle] to explore. The result is a flashy, explicit snapshot of a night where desire matters now and consequences, romance, and tomorrow can wait.
Aleman and REMIK GONZALEZ turn this track into a loud rap battle full of insults, swagger, and dark jokes. The speaker tells a rival to leave, calls him a fake MC, and says, “No te creo ni una sola palabra” [I don’t believe a single word you say]. He mocks the rival’s online claims about selling drugs, saying he still lives with his mother and only posts about having the best marijuana. In Mexican slang, “morros” means young guys, “clika” means crew, and “jale” means a hustle or job. The repeated line “Me gusta más el jale que el trabajo” [I like the hustle more than a regular job] gives the song its rebellious attitude.
The hook revolves around the clever contradiction “siempre ando derecho por lo chueco” [I always go straight through the crooked way]. “Derecho” means straight or upright, while “chueco” means crooked, so the phrase suggests following his own code while moving through a shady, chaotic world. He boasts that the microphone gives him power, compares his impact to Biggie’s, and says attacks from other rappers only raise his self-esteem. The verses mix threats with a quick reveal that the gun line is “¡Mentira! Solo juego con la rima” [A lie! I’m only playing with rhyme]. References to Blue Demon, a famous Mexican masked wrestler, and San Pablo add more playful bravado. It is blunt, profane, and deliberately excessive, with the beat treated like a place where the rappers make their own rules.
“Slim Thugs” is a loud, playful success story built from flexes, street slang, and luxury details. The speaker says, “Nu-nu-nunca broke otra vez” [n-n-never broke again], then jokes that people now address him formally: “Ahora me hablan de ‘usted’” [now they speak to me as “you,” formally]. Champagne, expensive parties, a jacuzzi dinner, designer tracksuits, tuned cars, jewelry, backstage rooms, and money fill the song. The Spanish slang keeps it loose and direct: “puchito” means a little cigarette, “homies” means close friends, “clicka” means crew, and “cabrón” is a strong insult that can also sound familiar between friends. The line “El sudor me trajo aquí” [sweat brought me here] gives all the boasting a simple reason: he worked for this life. He also says, “Que le jodan al bling’” [screw the flashy jewelry], only to admit he wears it to show off, which makes the attitude funny and self-aware.
The second half turns into a fast-moving scene from the block to the club, with Alemán, C. Tangana, and FNTXY surrounded by cars, friends, drinks, smoke, women, and music. “Somos la cara del bloque” [we are the face of the block] presents the crew as local stars, while references to Houston, Los Angeles, Mazatlán, the Baja Sur, BMWs, Mercedes, and a Cadillac from 2000 give the track a cross-border street-party feel. “Hacia atrás, autos tunea’os, mucho swag” [riding backward, customized cars, lots of style] points to the exaggerated car culture and confident posture. The mood is reckless and celebratory, but the ambition stays clear: “Voy detrás del millón” [I’m chasing a million]. By the end, the advice is wonderfully specific: drive down the boulevard, turn on a corrido or some trap, and keep the whole crew moving.
Aleman, a Mexican artist, and Adán Cruz turn a party shortage into a loud, funny refrain: “Ya no hay cheves, hielos, coca” [There are no more beers, ice, or coke]. The speaker says he already went out to get supplies, so now it is someone else’s turn: “Yo ya saqué hace rato, ahora a ti te toca” [I already got some a while ago, now it’s your turn]. Then the friends argue and boast: “Nel, puro pedo, aquí traigo una bolsa” [No, just kidding, I’ve got a bag here], followed by “Símon... traigo una onza” [Yes, I’ve got an ounce]. “Cheves” is Mexican slang for beers, “nel” means no, and “símon” is an informal yes. The repeated chorus makes the whole exchange sound like a joke between friends who refuse to let the party run out of supplies.
From there, the song races through a chaotic night of smoking, drinking, sex, loud hip hop, traffic, and several references to illegal drugs. “Yeyo pa’ las bishas y los compas” [Cocaine for the girls and the friends] uses “yeyo” as slang for cocaine, while “fumarolos entre humo flotan” [we smoke while floating among clouds of smoke] describes the room’s thick haze. The narrator mentions Mexico City, driving on the Periférico with the stereo loud, going to an after-party, and finally taking people to his bedroom. Lines about Molly, LSD, sleeplessness, and losing track of where he has been make the night sound increasingly reckless. It is a blunt party-rap fantasy, full of slang and excess, with the catchy “ya no hay...” hook keeping everyone shouting along even when the lyrics get completely out of control.