Learn Spanish With Peso Pluma with these 23 Song Recommendations (Full Translations Included!)
Picture a neon-lit cruise through Mexico’s nightlife: Peso Pluma and Tito Double P hop in a Porsche and speed from club to club, pockets full of cash, diamonds flashing, and a bottle of whisky riding shotgun. Over a hard-hitting corrido tumbado beat, they brag about designer clothes, uncut powders, clouds of weed smoke, and the fearless swagger of carrying a pistol. The song feels like a cinematic montage where every verse opens a new scene of excess, flirtation, and bass-thumping bravado.
Beneath the party vibes lies a declaration of identity. "Intro" celebrates the come-up of two young artistas who wear their outlaw reputation with pride while shouting out Mexico and the Double P crew. It is both a toast to living fast and a warning that their flashy world comes armored and ready. The night is wild, the pleasures are intense, and the chorus reminds listeners that the corrido spirit can evolve into modern trap without losing its grit.
Por Las Noches lleva al oyente a esos momentos de desvelo en los que la mente viaja por recuerdos que huelen a perfume y saben a tequila. Peso Pluma pinta una escena íntima: sábanas blancas, piernas largas, ojos que son laberintos. El protagonista se siente atrapado entre la sensualidad de un amor casi sagrado y la dolorosa certeza de que esa persona ya no regresará. La canción mezcla la cadencia del corrido tumbado con imágenes muy urbanas -Clase Azul, champaña, "polvo color rosa"- para mostrar cómo el placer se convierte en anestesia cuando el corazón está roto.
Aunque intenta embriagarse de lujos y emociones fuertes, la realidad es clara: "Y pensar que tú ya no vas a estar". Ese estribillo repetitivo refuerza la soledad que queda cuando el beso se va y la habitación queda en silencio. "Por Las Noches" es, en esencia, un himno melancólico para quienes han amado a alguien intocable y ahora lidian con la ausencia entre copas y recuerdos, convencidos de que como esa persona no hay nadie más.
Peso Pluma’s “Bye” puts a modern Corrido Tumbado twist on the classic breakup anthem. Over a laid-back guitar groove, the Mexican artist faces the blurry dawn after a relationship ends. He admits the hurt is real (“al chile, sí me dolió”) but insists the ache is fading bit by bit. The song swings between nostalgia and bold self-assurance: one moment he is replaying memories of an ex, the next he is lighting up, pouring wine, and promising himself new “princesas” to keep his mind busy.
Behind the cool swagger lies a relatable message: sometimes love runs its course, and the healthiest choice is to wish the other person good luck and walk away. “Bye” captures that bittersweet crossroads where sorrow meets liberation, turning heartbreak into a toast to self-respect and fresh beginnings.
“RELOJ” spins the tale of a heartbreak so intense that time itself seems to freeze. Peso Pluma and Iván Cornejo paint a picture of late-night scrolling through old messages, half-smiling at memories, yet feeling a clock that stubbornly refuses to move forward. Behind the upbeat Regional Mexican sound, the lyrics reveal a tug-of-war between wanting to party away the pain and being pulled back into the still-fresh wound of lost love. The singer tries everything: deleting contacts, surrounding himself with friends, even convincing himself he is “tranqui,” but the tick-tock of healing remains stubbornly silent.
The song captures that familiar moment when you realize a relationship was more illusion than reality. Lines about “una aventura para ti” versus “unos tragos amargos” for him highlight how two people can exit the same story with very different souvenirs. “RELOJ” is ultimately a bittersweet reminder that moving on is rarely linear; sometimes the party lights fade, the phone screen dims, and you are left counting minutes that refuse to pass.
“Lady Gaga” plunges us into the glittering nightlife that Mexico’s new wave of corrido tumbado stars love to flaunt. Peso Pluma, Gabito Ballesteros and Junior H turn the corrido’s traditional storytelling toward 21st-century excess, bragging about Dom Pérignon, designer shades, Lamborghinis, powder-pink “tussi,” and journeys from private islands to Japanese seafood bars. Behind the flexing lies a coded salute to street hustle: triple-washed product, masked friends in RZRs, and a vow that nothing reaches Instagram. The message is clear: real bosses party hard, spend harder, and stay off the grid.
At the same time, the trio poke fun at curiosity about their identities—“¿Que quiénes son? Eso mismito me pregunto yo”—while hinting that every greeting comes with a wad of cash. Influencers, bandida lovers, and ice-bright smiles orbit their world, yet loyalty and secrecy are the price of admission. In true corrido fashion, “Lady Gaga” glamorizes danger and decadence while capturing the swaggering confidence of a generation that measures success in Cartier, Louis Vuitton, and the bass of Makabelico beats.
RUBICON drives us straight into Peso Pluma’s desert highway of corrido tumbado swagger. Over a hypnotic guitar and hip-hop beat, the Mexican singer introduces himself as a lone wolf who trusts few people, keeps his phone close, and carries spiritual protection in the form of chains and saints. He honors a fallen brother “looking down from the sky,” yet keeps moving forward with a laid-back confidence that never quite lets its guard down.
The Rubicon Jeep, bags of cash, crypto profits, and clouds of smoke paint a vivid picture of a modern outlaw whose only priority is multiplying “Benjamines.” Between references to Elegua, “El Chapillo” as his street alias, and weaponry ready for anyone who crosses him, Peso Pluma’s message is crystal clear: stay positive, stay hustling, and stay protected. The song is equal parts flex and cautionary tale, a soundtrack for cruising sand dunes while watching your back and dreaming bigger stacks.
“HOLLYWOOD” nos abre la puerta a la vida vertiginosa de Peso Pluma y Estevan Plazola. Entre luces, caviar y ropa de diseñador, los artistas confiesan que el brillo de la fama no apaga los fantasmas del pasado. “No quiero acostarme, no puedo dormir” repite el coro, y con eso descubrimos a un narrador que corre sin descanso, impulsado por los recuerdos de arrestos juveniles, regaños de sus padres y la meta inquebrantable de sobrevivir. Esa tensión entre lujo y dolor se convierte en el motor de la canción: el éxito parece un sueño, pero también un insomnio permanente.
La letra combina escenas de alfombras rojas con reflexiones sobre la corrupción política y la presión de firmar “con el diablo” para llegar a la cima. Mientras rueda un cigarro por Hollywood, el cantante se pregunta si la recompensa justifica los sacrificios. El resultado es un corrido urbano que critica, celebra y expone la realidad sin filtros: la fama deslumbra, pero la conciencia nunca se calla.
“Nueva Vida” opens under the neon sky of a Mexican night as Peso Pluma rolls a smoke and checks his surroundings. He paints himself as siempre bien tranquilo – calm, unfazed, and thankful for the real friends who have backed him up. Rather than boasting about flashy cars or jewelry, he salutes the true riches he received from his parents: values, guidance, and the spirit of his late father who still lights the way. In classic corrido tumbado fashion, the music feels both relaxed and raw, giving us a front-row seat to a young man mapping out his destiny.
The second half of the song flips the spotlight onto change. Peso Pluma speaks of pensamientos nuevos and a nueva vida: a fresh mindset that attracts a few whispers of envy. He stays low-key, leaning on loyal crew members like el compita Rulas while trusting that time will sort the real from the fake. The message is clear: growth comes with shadows, but with humility, loyalty, and a watchful eye, the plans will fall into place. Listeners walk away feeling the mix of ambition and gratitude that fuels Peso Pluma’s rise – a relatable anthem for anyone stepping into their next chapter while keeping their roots intact.
Sun-kissed beaches, carefree dancing and a dash of romantic bravado – “TULUM” invites us on a getaway where love finally gets its priorities straight. Peso Pluma and Grupo Frontera paint a picture of a stunning woman posting picture-perfect vacation shots from Mexico’s famous resort town, yet her heart is stuck in a lukewarm relationship. The voice of the song swoops in with swagger, telling her she’s a ten and doesn’t deserve a partner who “doesn’t even reach her feet.” Instead of Rolexes and mansions, he offers something rarer: time, genuine attention and the promise of memories the wind can’t carry away.
With catchy wordplay – “la comida se enfría cuando se descuida” (“the food gets cold when you neglect it”) – the lyrics urge her to drop the inattentive boyfriend and savor a new romance while it’s hot. The narrator celebrates her as “lo más rico del menú,” the tastiest dish on the menu, and imagines escaping to a secluded beach where the only soundtrack is their laughter, dancing and splashing waves. In short, “TULUM” is an energetic anthem about choosing heartfelt connection over flashy possessions, proving that sometimes the best vacation souvenir is discovering who truly values you.
“Luna” is a bittersweet serenade in which Peso Pluma and Junior H turn the moon into their confidante. Over the mellow swagger of a corrido tumbado, the singers confess that they can no longer be near the woman they love, so they beg the moon to become her silent guardian. The lyrics paint a night-sky love triangle: she only the moon can see, they hidden in the shadows of heartbreak, and the ever-watchful lunar light that bridges the distance.
As the corrido unfolds, the artists mix nostalgia with acceptance. They acknowledge that she has moved on, yet they trust the moon to remind her of shared memories and to keep her safe. It is a poetic way of saying “I am letting you go, but my feelings still orbit you.” The result is a modern Mexican folk tale where heartbreak, loyalty, and cosmic imagery dance together beneath the silver glow of la luna.
BIPOLAR is a roller-coaster corrido that lets us peek inside a mind torn between lingering love and hard-earned self-respect. Peso Pluma, Jasiel Nuñez, and Junior H trade heartfelt lines about that late-night weakness when you grab the phone, dial your ex, and instantly regret it. The singer admits, “Prometí que iba a olvidarte… pero me fallé,” confessing that love’s pull still wins whenever the sun goes down. These emotional highs and lows give the track its title: he feels bipolar, swinging from pleading romance to fierce independence in a single breath.
Just when the pain seems too heavy, the narrator sparks a joint, floats above the drama, and remembers a new priority: me first. The chorus flips the script with a swaggering resolve to chase money, dreams, and inner peace instead of empty “Te quiero” promises. In short, BIPOLAR captures that messy stage after a breakup where your heart and head argue nonstop, yet you slowly learn that self-love is the most profitable investment of all.
**“LAGUNAS” dives into the hazy waters of memory and desire. Peso Pluma and Jasiel Nuñez paint the night with a bright moon, but the light only makes the singer’s heartbreak clearer. He deliberately keeps his distance from a woman he still loves, convincing himself it is better for both of them. While steering away, he keeps getting pulled back into mental “lagunas” – pockets of doubt and daydreams – wondering what it would feel like to kiss her forehead again.
This Corrido Tumbado blends raw regional guitars with modern urban flair, turning a simple love-gone-wrong story into a cosmic what-if. Maybe, the song suggests, on another planet their love worked out exactly as they wished. Until then, he swims through bittersweet memories, powered by a rhythm that’s equal parts heartbreak and swagger.
“La Patrulla” revs up like a night-time cruise through Peso Pluma’s rise from street hustle to jet-set swagger. Over bright tubas and rattling snare rolls, he looks back at how el muchacho climbed “pa’ arriba,” dodging danger while “andando en la patrulla” – rolling with his crew, always on alert. The lyrics mix gritty snapshots (Glocks, grape blunts, two-faced rivals) with flashes of sudden luxury: private jets, worldwide spins, and impromptu parties where todo se puede. In every bar he reminds us he’s still the same guy, only the stakes and the scenery have changed.
Threaded through that bravado is a softer pulse: the pull of a lover who keeps him grounded. The chorus flips from street talk to tender invitations to “véngase pa’ acá,” emphasizing that success feels empty without her by his side. Together, Peso Pluma and Neton Vega craft a corrido that celebrates perseverance, loyalty, and living fast while refusing to forget where you started.
ZAPATA rides the wave of corrido tumbado, a modern fusion of regional Mexican corrido storytelling with hip-hop bravado. Peso Pluma uses the legendary revolutionary Emiliano Zapata as a symbol of fearless independence while narrating his own rise from border-town hustler to jet-setting mogul. Collectible weapons, limited-edition jewelry, Perrier in hand, and a Lamborghini Urus blaze across the lyrics, painting a picture of a young outlaw who has turned street savvy into a luxury lifestyle without ever showing his face to the masses.
Beneath the flashy details, the song celebrates resilience and calculated risk. Peso Pluma boasts that he is “moving in the fire” yet remains unscathed, proving that sharp instincts can outmatch danger. The refrain about sparking “one of the green” to de-stress hints at cannabis as both a ritual and a badge of rebellion. In short, ZAPATA is a swagger-filled ode to ambition, secrecy, and the thrill of living on the edge while cash flows in from every direction.
Welcome to Peso Pluma’s fast lane. “RARI” feels like cruising through a neon-lit city with the windows down and the bass up. Over a Regional Mexican beat fused with urban swagger, the Mexican star celebrates the thrill of new-found success: luxury rides (Cadillac or Ferrari), sparkling Eliantte chains, and endless nights of parties fueled by Gelato and “mari.” The roulette wheel of fortune has finally spun in his favor, and he’s determined to savor every second.
Beneath the flashy imagery, the song is about tasting victory after hustle and risk. Peso Pluma paints a world where confidence is currency—where being called “Daddy” by admirers and stepping out in a coordinated Maybach outfit prove the climb was worth it. “RARI” invites listeners to join the celebration, reminding us that when luck smiles, you light another smoke, turn up the music, and keep the party rolling.
“Gervonta” catapults us into Peso Pluma’s flashy universe of corrido tumbado, where traditional storytelling meets trap-infused swagger. Across the verses, the Mexican artist flaunts a globe-trotting, rule-breaking lifestyle filled with morenas who love mischief, Italian mob-style chauffeurs, and private-jet escapes that make time itself feel expendable. The song’s title nods to boxer Gervonta Davis, symbolizing front-row access to the most exclusive experiences; if you’re sitting ringside in Las Vegas, you’ve clearly made it.
Beyond the glitz, the lyrics weave together modern markers of wealth—crypto paydays, designer watches that “shine on the wrist,” and lavish parties stocked with Molly, wax, Uzis, and SCAR rifles. It’s a cinematic montage: rolling through Dubai in a hooded disguise, sightseeing in Japan, lighting up in “La Fly,” all while staying “under the radar” like a fish in water. “Gervonta” is essentially Peso Pluma’s victory lap, celebrating newfound fortune and fearlessness while giving listeners a pulse-pounding glimpse of the dangers, decadence, and adrenaline that fuel his rise.
GAVILÁN II drops you straight into the high-octane world of Sinaloa’s cartel corridors. Peso Pluma and Tito Double P voice a fearless operative who “likes to work,” prays to the devil, and answers to the legendary Guzmán clan. He rolls through Culiacán in homemade armored Cheyennes, flanked by ex-military commandos and rifles you “can’t even imagine.” The message is clear: in this territory action speaks louder than gossip, and anyone who misbehaves ends up in the fosa (the pit).
Beneath the gunfire imagery, the song highlights a rugged code of honor—discipline, loyalty, and pride in the craft of survival. The protagonist cools his nerves with tobacco, carries scars like medals, and keeps pushing forward, confident he is “still in command.” Blending traditional corrido storytelling with trap swagger, GAVILÁN II offers a raw, unfiltered look at modern narco culture and serves as a thrilling tool for learners eager to explore real-world slang, regional references, and the pulse of contemporary Mexican music.
BELLAKEO is a high-octane invitation to ditch the day’s drama and chase midnight freedom. After a heated argument with her partner, the heroine phones Peso Pluma for an instant escape: shots of Clase Azul, radio blasting Plan B, Yeezys hitting the pavement. The duo heads straight to the club where lights flash, bass rumbles, and the only thing on the agenda is pure bellaqueo – that teasing, body-to-body dance that sets the room on fire.
Throughout the song, Peso Pluma and Anitta trade playful verses that celebrate confidence, sensuality, and self-rule. She chooses who gets close, he mirrors her energy, and together they turn the dance floor into a dangerously fun playground. The message is simple: let go, move without apology, and keep the perreo loud until sunrise.
Peso Pluma turns the party lights low and the luxury dial up to maximum in “BRUCE WAYNE.” Picture him opening his wardrobe after a short hiatus, finding it stuffed with fresh designer pieces: Christian Dior sneakers, a never-seen-before Maison Margiela jacket, and no stylist in sight. He brags about errands that turn into quick cash, shipments that add “kilitos,” and a house so full of people that dancers nearly step on his new kicks. Every line flexes status symbols and effortless swagger, letting us know that he is in complete control of his image and his night.
The chorus reveals why he feels unstoppable: sliding through the city in a Lamborghini, he compares himself to Bruce Wayne—wealthy by day, prowling like a vampire by night. This alter-ego captures the song’s core message: success brings both admiration and envy. Peso Pluma knows some fans will crown him a hero while others wish him ill, yet he remains “vivo y bendecido,” alive and blessed, even if that blessing feels like a curse. “BRUCE WAYNE” is both a victory lap and a warning siren, wrapped in booming corridos-trap production and soaked in moonlit bravado.
“Por Las Noches (Remix)” invites us into a bittersweet after-hours confession where Peso Pluma and Nicki Nicole swap memories like late-night texts. Wrapped in the modern Corrido Tumbado sound, the lyrics paint a vivid picture of two lovers replaying sensory snapshots: the lingering perfume, white sheets that once felt like a secret hideout, and hypnotic eyes that turned passion into an inescapable maze. Each detail shines like a “joya de oro,” reminding them how irresistible the connection once was.
Yet beneath the sensual flashbacks lies a painful truth. Both artists realize this is likely their last encounter, and every kiss risks turning into a final goodbye. The chorus captures that tug-of-war between hope and resignation: trying one more time, only to see the other drift away again. The song becomes a lament for love that stays stuck in yesterday, leaving a haunting question echoing in the night: if everything we gave was “para nada,” why does it still hurt so much?
PRC plunges you into a high-octane morning with Peso Pluma and Natanael Cano, two of Mexico’s leaders in the corrido tumbado wave. Over a fusion of regional guitars and urban bass, they paint a vivid, first-person picture of a young smuggler’s routine: wake up, roll something strong, field nonstop phone calls from flirty girls or eager clients, then zip across the border with bundles of “polvo, ruedas y cristal” (powder, pills and crystal meth). The adrenaline rush is sound-tracked by swaggering trumpets and luxury shout-outs to Balenciaga and Louis Vuitton, reminding listeners that the under-the-table hustle bankrolls an over-the-top lifestyle.
At its core, the song is both a celebration and a confession. The artists glorify fast money, late-night parties and the thrill of never looking back, yet the constant refrain “no puedo fallar” hints at the razor-thin line between success and downfall. PRC is less a cautionary tale and more an unapologetic snapshot of modern corridos: raw, flashy and unfiltered, inviting learners to explore contemporary Mexican slang while feeling the pulse of street-level storytelling.
Peso Pluma’s “14 - 14” is a gritty confession set to the pulse of a modern corrido. The narrator stumbles through a wild night where booze no longer burns and drugs feel useless, yet he keeps going. Between one drink and the next, he talks to God, thanks his praying mother, and hides a rosary under his shirt before “poisoning” himself again. This tightrope walk between faith and vice turns the song into a late-night prayer wrapped in the unmistakable swagger of Regional Mexican music.
In the second half, the inner battle intensifies. The devil whispers job offers, crates of high-caliber weapons head to Guasave, and a Judas-like traitor meets his fate. Through it all, the singer clings to the hope that el jefe (God) will forgive whatever happens. “14 - 14” paints a vivid picture of someone trapped between cartel duty and spiritual redemption, making listeners feel every ounce of tension, thrill, and fragile faith that comes with living on both sides of the moral line.
“Rosa Pastel” throws you straight into the fast-paced life of a young Mexican hustler who, despite his age, already thinks and moves like a seasoned boss. Peso Pluma and Jasiel Nuñez mix the swagger of corridos with urban street slang to paint a vibrant picture of ambition: private planes buzzing like a “flying supermarket,” secret codes shared over dessert, and business deals scored in Amsterdam. Every line drips with confidence, hinting at the product nicknamed Rosa Pastel—a flashy symbol of the risky trade that funds this lavish, globe-trotting lifestyle.
Beneath the bravado, the song is a heartfelt salute to family and mentorship. The narrator’s late father and a handful of powerful allies (“el boss que está junto a Dios,” “mi padrino Hog”) loom large in his thoughts, guiding his moves and reminding him to stay sharp, patient, and persistent. Success here isn’t just about fast money; it’s about honoring lessons learned, keeping loyalty tight, and proving that with brains, grit, and a bit of flair, even a “chavalito” can “meter gol” on the world stage.