Learn Spanish With Peso Pluma with these 23 Song Recommendations (Full Translations Included!)
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.
“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.
“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.
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.
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.
MAMI rides like a late-night cruise through dusty backroads: the engine growls, the stereo blasts, and a cloud of smoke fills the cab. Peso Pluma and Chino Pacas paint a vivid picture of living life at full throttle—eyes red from partying, pockets heavy with risk, and a fearless “mami” riding shotgun. Every line drips with adrenaline as the duo dodge authority, pass blunts mouth-to-mouth, and brag about never letting the high—or the excitement—come down.
Beneath the bravado, the song is really a flirtatious ode to the woman who fuels it all. She is a “perfect ten,” bold enough to grab the rifle in a heartbeat and captivating enough to make the toughest outlaw consider quitting the smuggling game… almost. In MAMI, love, danger, and rebellion blur together, creating a soundtrack for anyone who dreams of romance on the edge. 🔥🚚💨
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.
“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.
**“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.
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.
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.
“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.
“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.
“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?
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.
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.
“ME ACTIVO” is a high-octane victory lap where Peso Pluma and Jasiel Núñez celebrate the moment when hard hustle turns into big paydays. The lyrics paint a vivid scene: stacks of cash keep growing, packages fly overseas, and a sleek black Rolls-Royce glides through the night while Jungle Boys weed keeps the vibe rolling. In other words, business is booming, the crew is buzzing, and everyone is fully activo—ready for whatever comes next.
Beyond the flashy imagery, the song carries a message of resilience and upward momentum. Peso Pluma looks back at skeptics who once doubted him, proud that he has “leveled up” and balanced his ship. Now that he knows how to fend off fears, there is no thought of slowing down. With wads of money “truenando” (popping) and good times never short of smoke, “ME ACTIVO” becomes an anthem for staying motivated, fearless, and unstoppable while you and your team climb to new heights.
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.
Rompe La Dompe plunges us into a neon-lit night where corridos tumbados meet VIP bottle service. Peso Pluma, Junior H, and Óscar Maydon celebrate an unstoppable party fueled by Dom Pérignon (“Rompe la Dom Pe”), clouds of smoke, roaring engines at 180 km/h, and diamond-studded swagger. In this world the music never cuts, eyes stay red, and “María” (slang for marijuana) is always on the guest list.
Amid the glittering chaos flickers a brief, nocturnal romance: the narrator is hypnotized by an angelic yet dangerous woman—“a serpent” who should leave his mind but whose scent keeps pulling him back. The song balances reckless pleasure and subtle warning, reminding listeners that while the night feels infinite, dawn is always waiting outside the club doors.
Tommy & Pamela invites you into a neon-soaked night where luxury, danger and forbidden romance collide. Peso Pluma brags about sparkling chains, bullet-studded weapons and garages stuffed with Lamborghinis, while Kenia Os answers with seductive confidence, ready for back-seat adventures until 5 a.m. The title nods to the infamous Tommy Lee and Pamela Anderson tape, setting the tone for a secret rendezvous that must stay off the radar so no exes or rivals can see.
Beneath the boastful lyrics lies the thrill of doing what both singers admit is “mal” – sneaking away to smoke, dance and indulge in desire without the tenderness of pet names or the commitment of an official relationship. The song is a bilingual blend of corrido, reggaetón and Latin trap slang that paints nightlife as a playground where wealth glitters, danger lurks and passion is kept hush-hush, just long enough to capture the rush before sunrise.
Peso Pluma and Tito Double P invite us on a swagger-filled voyage through the underworld economy that has made them legends in Los Cuadros. The title refers to the square-shaped packages that move across borders and oceans, a street shorthand for the product that fuels their fortune. From the very first lines we hear a rags-to-riches brag: the narrator started small, now spends freely, and ships merchandise “de diez en diez,” ten at a time. The sea becomes a highway, “marinos por el altamar,” as trusted sailors steer the loads while the boss relaxes with a Gelato blunt and a stress-killing cigarette.
Behind the bravado lies a constant sense of danger. He keeps “dos o tres” bodyguards close, watches for “el diablo” – a metaphor for law enforcement or betrayal – and guarantees “jale” (work) for the clients who keep his empire spinning. The song blends traditional Regional Mexican corrido storytelling with modern urban slang, painting a vivid picture of hustling, loyalty, and survival. In short, Los Cuadros is a celebration of calculated risk and hard-won power, wrapped in Peso Pluma’s unmistakable swagger and Tito Double P’s gritty narrative flair.
“Vino Tinto” pours listeners a glass of pure corrido tumbado swagger. Peso Pluma, Natanael Cano, and Gabito Ballesteros toast to their rise from scarcity (no tortillas on the table) to a life overflowing with cash, designer labels, techno parties, and endless adrenaline. The red wine is their remedy for old wounds, while the lyrics flash images of luxury cars, Coco Chanel, and long hair like Pablo Escobar’s, all wrapped in an easygoing “ando relax” attitude.
Beneath the flexing, the trio remind us they earned their throne through hustle and loyalty. They call out those who forgot the hand that once helped them, celebrate the brotherhood that still stands strong, and reveal a three-step playbook: make the money (Plan A), spend it big (Plan B), and, if needed, dip back into risky business (Plan C). The result is an anthem that mixes bravado, nostalgia, and fiesta vibes, inviting learners to taste the bittersweet flavor of success in today’s Mexican urban culture.