Learn Spanish With Music with these 23 Song Recommendations (Full Translations Included!)

In "Tití Me Preguntó," Bad Bunny turns a lighthearted family interrogation into a reggaeton confession booth. His mischievous aunt (tití means auntie in Caribbean Spanish) keeps asking how many girlfriends he has, and Benito answers with playful bravado: "Hoy tengo una, mañana otra" – today I have one, tomorrow another. The lyrics leap from a roll-call of names to VIP selfies, painting the portrait of a globetrotting Romeo who always has a new date but never a wedding ring.

Beneath the catchy beat and cheeky humor hides a mix of swagger and vulnerability. Bad Bunny boasts about endless options, yet he admits he can’t trust anyone, not even himself, and fears breaking hearts as easily as he collects them. The push and pull between tití’s old-school advice and his own modern hookup habits mirrors the clash between traditional values and contemporary freedom. By the final verse he half-jokes about wanting to change but not knowing how, leaving listeners dancing while pondering the cost of limitless choice.

DtMF invites us to roll down the windows and feel the warm Puerto Rican breeze. Over a smooth reggaetón beat, Bad Bunny watches otro sunset bonito in San Juan and lets nostalgia flood in. He misses the everyday details that people only realize are special after they leave: late-night hangouts, spontaneous photos that were never taken, kisses that could have lasted longer. The song flips between sweet memories and the present moment, where he is surrounded by lifelong friends, domino games with his grandpa, and the irresistible pull of perreo, salsa, bomba, and plena.

Under the party lights, Bad Bunny slips honest reflections between jokes and shout-outs. Regret, gratitude, and celebration all blend together. He raises a glass to the crew that keeps him grounded, hopes loved ones never have to move away, and reminds us to capture the magic of right now—before the night, the city, or a relationship becomes just another memory on our phones. The result is a heartfelt anthem that feels like a group selfie at 3 a.m.: messy, joyful, and unforgettable.

Pero Ya No ("But Not Anymore") is Bad Bunny’s upbeat goodbye to a past flame. With the catchy refrain “antes yo te quería, pero ya no”, he lets us know—again and again—that all the love, liking, and loyalty he once had have evaporated. The song feels like a victory lap of self-confidence: Benito isn’t heartbroken, he’s thrilled to be free, and the repetitive hook works like a mantra that stamps this new mindset into the listener’s head.

Over a swagger-filled trap beat, the Puerto Rican star peppers the verses with pop-culture shout-outs (J.Lo and A-Rod), gamer humor (“I’m not a Pokémon”), and snapshots of a glam night out—hookahs, motorbikes, designer sneakers. These lines aren’t just bragging; they underline three big takeaways:

• He’s moved on to bigger, bolder adventures.
• He won’t fall for “fake love” again.
• Most importantly, self-worth comes first.

In short, Pero Ya No is the perfect soundtrack for anyone ready to close an old chapter, crank up the volume, and celebrate their own comeback story.

Bad Bunny’s “NUEVAYoL” is a sun-soaked postcard from a Puerto Rican superstar spending the summer in New York City. He paints the scene with fireworks on the Fourth of July, late-night cruises through the Bronx and Washington Heights, and the electric hum of reggaeton echoing off the skyscrapers. The chorus promises that anyone looking for charm and excitement only needs “un verano en Nueva York,” capturing the magnetic pull the city has long held for the Latino community. References to salsa legend Willie Colón, painter Frida Kahlo, and big-league baseball teams tie Puerto Rican pride to the cultural melting pot of NYC, showing how the island’s rhythm and the city’s hustle blend into one unstoppable vibe.

The verses double as a victory lap. Bad Bunny compares his record sales to art masterpieces, jokes about being the new “king of pop” while keeping reggaeton at the core, and flexes with witty shout-outs to iconic rappers like Big Pun and sports stars like Juan Soto. Amid the bravado, party invites, and flirtatious lines, the message is clear: Latin music now rules the global stage, and New York is its summertime capital. “NUEVAYoL” is both a celebration and a declaration, urging listeners to dance, explore, and feel the island-to-city connection in every beat.

Bad Bunny’s “Enséñame A Bailar” drops you straight onto a Caribbean dancefloor at 3 a.m. The Puerto Rican superstar plays the role of a tipsy admirer who admits he doesn’t know the steps, yet he is completely hypnotized by his partner’s moves. Over a smooth reggaeton beat, he celebrates the instant chemistry between “tú y yo” while promising fun without limits: he will follow her lead, pay for any broken glasses, and keep the party alive until sunrise.

More than a simple request to learn how to dance, the song is a flirtatious anthem about living in the moment. References to Quisqueya (the Dominican Republic) and moonlit beaches paint a tropical backdrop, while repeated lines like “Tú y yo solitos y el sol” picture a private world where only the two of them and the dawn exist. It is carefree, sensual, and irresistibly catchy, inviting listeners to let loose, forget the rules, and move their hips until the first light of day.

What if love had struck a little sooner?

In this playful reggaetón jam, Colombian powerhouse KAROL G fantasizes about meeting her crush before he ever started dating someone else. She pictures him swaying to the beat by her side not as friends but as irresistible dance-floor partners, convinced her fiery kisses and fearless attitude would eclipse his current girlfriend’s shy charms. Jealousy fuels the daydream, yet it’s laced with flirtatious humor as she vows to do “anything” for a single beso and even jokes about taking his last name.

Beneath the catchy rhythm, the song is an ode to confidence, timing, and bold desire. KAROL G turns the classic “what if” scenario into an empowering anthem, proving that when you know your worth, you’re ready to rewrite fate—one salsa-infused step at a time.

“Tenemos Que Hablar” turns a simple text message into a full-blown panic attack. Bad Bunny, the Puerto Rican reggaeton superstar, hears the dreaded phrase “we need to talk” and instantly spirals into damage-control mode. Across the track he flips through a hilarious checklist of possible crimes: Did he flirt? Was it the girl he just glanced at? Maybe the kiss he barely remembers after a wild night out? The lyrics capture that universal moment of sweaty-palmed anxiety when you know you might have messed up but hope it is all just a misunderstanding.

Behind the humor sits a sharper commentary on trust and gossip in modern relationships. Bad Bunny’s narrator deflects blame—accusing friends, cousins, even the girlfriend’s mom—for stirring the pot while insisting he is an “angelito.” By mixing playful Spanish slang with catchy reggaeton beats, the song paints a vivid picture of youthful love, jealousy, and the social circle drama that can ignite with a single notification. Listeners are left dancing while also smiling at how painfully relatable that one message can be.

Bad Bunny’s “Efecto” is a sultry reggaeton anthem about the intoxicating rush of desire. The Puerto Rican superstar compares his lover to a powerful drug: every glance makes him sweat, every touch sends him soaring, and the chaos of life suddenly feels perfect when they are together. He marvels at how quickly her presence changes his reality, turning a “jodido” world into a euphoric escape.

Beyond the catchy beat, the lyrics paint a vivid night of passion and unapologetic confidence. Bad Bunny celebrates the freedom of giving in to temptation, reveling in the sensory overload of music, movement, and chemistry on the dance floor. “Efecto” captures that electric moment when attraction takes over completely, leaving reason at the door and letting pleasure set the rhythm.

Bad Bunny’s “VOY A LLeVARTE PA PR” is a high-energy invitation to experience the wild, carefree nightlife of Puerto Rico, the cradle of reggaeton. The narrator meets a woman in Miami and boldly promises to fly her (and her friend) to the island so she can see cómo es que se perrea—how real reggaeton dancing is done. Throughout the song he brags about being single, flush with cash, and ready to party from dusk till dawn. The message is clear: forget Tinder, forget commitment, just lose yourself in the hypnotic rhythm, neon-lit clubs, hookah smoke, and sunrise exits from the disco.

Beyond the flirtation, the track is a love letter to Puerto Rican culture. Slang like janguear (to hang out) and algarete (going wild) paints a picture of a place where the dance floor is sacred and freedom rules the night. Bad Bunny proudly stakes his claim: “Aquí nací yo y el reggaetón,” reminding listeners that both he and the genre were born on this island. In short, the song is a sonic passport to an unforgettable weekend where the only rule is to dance hard and live in the moment.

Despacito is a sun-soaked invitation to a slow, sensual dance through the streets and beaches of Puerto Rico. Luis Fonsi’s smooth vocals and Daddy Yankee’s rhythmic flow create a flirtatious dialogue where the singer is magnetically drawn to someone across the dance floor. Instead of rushing, he wants every heartbeat, every step, and every whispered word to build anticipation—pasito a pasito, suave suavecito (step by step, softly and gently).

The lyrics paint vivid images of intimacy: tracing kisses like ink on skin, getting lost in a lover’s “labyrinth,” and letting Caribbean waves cheer them on. It is a playful celebration of desire, confidence, and island pride, reminding listeners that the real thrill lies in savoring every moment rather than sprinting to the finish. The result is a feel-good anthem that makes you want to sway your hips, practice your Spanish, and fall in love at half-speed.

“Yo Perreo Sola” literally means “I twerk by myself,” and Bad Bunny turns that simple phrase into a bold anthem of female independence on the dance floor. The lyrics paint a picture of a woman who once chased after someone’s attention, but now confidently pichea (ignores) the very people who used to ignore her. Her motto is clear: she drinks from the bottle, climbs the table, and owns the club’s spotlight without needing any “baboso” (creep) to latch onto her. In a genre often criticized for objectifying women, Bad Bunny flips the script, celebrating a woman who decides how, where, and with whom she dances—if anyone at all.

Beyond the catchy reggaeton beat, the song champions self-worth and the right to personal space. Bad Bunny’s heroine is “soltera antes que se pusiera de moda” (single before it became trendy), skeptical of love since “Amorfoda,” and comfortable calling her own shots. She has hobbies, friends, and plenty of swagger, but romance can wait. The repeated chorus—*“Antes tú me pichabas / Ahora yo picheo”—*reminds listeners that tables can turn, and respect is non-negotiable. Whether you’re perfecting your Spanish slang or just looking for a confidence boost, this track invites you to own the dance floor on your own terms.

EoO is Bad Bunny’s latest invitation to the electric world of Puerto Rican nightlife. The moment ella steps into the club, the track erupts in pounding beats, gun-slinging metaphors, and nonstop tra-tra chants that mirror the thrusting rhythm of perreo (reggaeton’s signature hip-shaking dance). Over booming drums, Bunny boasts about steamy encounters, daring the girl to drop hasta abajo (all the way down) while he showers her with extravagant promises and playful, unfiltered desire.

Beneath the flirtation lies a proud shout-out to the genre’s roots. Bad Bunny name-checks the 1990s, the housing projects, and super-producer Tainy to remind listeners that this raw, sweaty energy was born on the island’s streets long before it ruled global charts. In short, “EoO” is both a celebration of sensual freedom and a love letter to Puerto Rico’s reggaeton culture—a track meant to crank up, dance low, and feel the pulse of the Caribbean in every beat.

"LO QUE LE PASÓ A HAWAi" opens like a tropical daydream: foamy waves that fizz like champagne, green mountains brushing the clouds, and a smiling girl who hides her tears. Bad Bunny splashes these vibrant images over an infectious reggaeton rhythm, inviting us to dance while he paints Puerto Rico’s natural beauty and everyday joy. It feels fun and carefree on the surface, yet every reference to the sea, the river, and the hillside whispers that they are treasures worth protecting.

Listen closer and the party turns into a protest. The lyrics mourn neighbors forced to leave, condemn corrupt politicians, and warn that outside interests want to snatch the island’s land just as happened in Hawaiʻi. By urging listeners to “hold on to the flag” and never forget the traditional lelolai chant, Bad Bunny rallies Puerto Ricans to defend their culture, their barrios, and their roots. The song is both a celebration of island pride and a heartfelt plea: safeguard your home so its next verse is sung in joy, not nostalgia.

Mi Gente translates to My People, and from the very first beat J Balvin and Willy William invite absolutely everyone to join their global dance floor. The lyrics celebrate a rhythm so infectious it “moves your head” before you even realize it, proving that music can leap over language, culture, and borders without missing a step. Balvin proudly declares that his sound “does not discriminate,” turning the song into an open-armed anthem of inclusion where every listener is family.

As the party rolls from Colombia to France and echoes across the world, the duo shouts out DJs, bottles in the air, and a dance-until-dawn energy that refuses to slow down. “Dónde está mi gente?”—“Where are my people?”—is not just a question; it is a joyful roll call that pulls crowds from every corner into one unstoppable celebration. In short, “Mi Gente” is a high-octane reminder that when the beat drops, we are all united on the same dance floor, moving together to the same pulse.

Get your hips ready because Baile Inolvidable turns heartbreak into a sizzling salsa party. Bad Bunny, the Puerto Rican superstar, looks back on a love he thought would last forever. Under blazing horns and tropical percussion, he remembers the partner who taught him how to love and how to dance, picturing the two of them growing old side by side. Instead, the romance fades, leaving him alone at sunset, guilt-ridden yet still moving to the music.

The chorus, pulsing with “No, no te puedo olvidar,” shows how every conga hit drags him back to her memory. Life, he reminds us, is a short-lived fiesta, so we should pour our hearts into every embrace while the song plays. Their once-in-a-lifetime dance becomes a symbol of passion: intense, unforgettable, and impossible to replace. Even surrounded by new faces, he knows only one partner truly matched his rhythm. The result is a bittersweet celebration that urges us to keep dancing, even when love leaves an ache in our chest.

Get ready to smile, sway your hips, and shout la-la-la-la! Marc Anthony’s salsa hit "Vivir Mi Vida" is an explosion of joy and resilience. The song answers the big question “What will your legacy be?” with a simple, upbeat reply: laugh, dance, and live right now. Marc celebrates every part of himself — father, son, brother, friend, musician, and a proud blend of New York and Puerto Rico roots — and he invites his listeners to do the same. When rain falls, it cleans old wounds; when music plays, it turns tears into rhythm. In other words, pain exists, but it does not have to rule the party.

So why cry and suffer? The chorus urges us to trade sorrow for movement: voy a reír, voy a bailar (“I will laugh, I will dance”). By staying present, listening to our inner voice, and always stepping forward, we can stamp our own joyful footprints on the world. "Vivir Mi Vida" is more than a dance floor anthem; it is a life philosophy set to spicy brass and driving percussion. One life, one chance; so spin, smile, and live it to the fullest.

Imagine a brief Caribbean getaway in someone’s heart. In “TURiSTA,” Bad Bunny compares a short-lived romance to a vacation visit: the other person was only a tourist who snapped pretty memories, danced under glowing sunsets, and enjoyed the best version of him. The catchy bolero groove feels warm and relaxed, yet the lyrics reveal that, behind the souvenirs and smiles, the host’s heart has been hurting for mucho tiempo.

The song’s bittersweet core is about appearance versus reality. While the couple “la pasamos bien,” the narrator hid old wounds that were never the tourist’s job to heal. He accepts the relationship’s temporary nature—“si se da, pues se da, y si no, pues también”—and chooses to savor the night anyway. With this mix of romance, resignation, and self-protection, Bad Bunny reminds listeners that even the most beautiful trips can leave unseen stories behind, and that sometimes enjoying the moment is the best passport we have.

La Bachata is a bittersweet confession from someone who just can’t hit “delete” on a past love. Even after blocking their ex on Instagram and erasing the phone number, the singer still memorizes every detail, sneaks back to watch stories, and drives through the same streets where those unforgettable kisses once happened. Each familiar corner and every song the ex once dedicated becomes a soundtrack that keeps the memories alive.

Behind the catchy, dance-ready norteño-bachata fusion lies a tug-of-war between nostalgia and self-preservation. The narrator knows that healing will eventually come yet admits, “Aún no lo hago… Es complicado.” Instead of begging the ex to return, he turns to faith, asking God for protection while he learns to let go. It’s a relatable portrait of modern heartbreak: scrolling, blocking, “accidental” story-viewing, and that restless drive through memory-laden streets, all wrapped in a melody that makes you want to sway even as it tugs at your heart.

Think of “Sofía” as a sun-kissed postcard from Spain, stamped with irresistible whistling hooks and a bittersweet confession. Álvaro Soler sings about looking back on carefree childhood dreams, then fast-forwarding to the moment everything with Sofía desvaneció—vanished. He repeats “sin tu mirada, sigo” (without your gaze, I go on) like a mantra, showing he is determined to keep moving even though her absence still stings.

In this catchy pop anthem, the narrator admits he once clipped Sofía’s wings and now watches her fly with someone else. He no longer trusts or desires her, yet he cannot help asking, “¿Cómo te mira?”—how does he look at you? The upbeat rhythm masks a tug-of-war between nostalgia and acceptance, making “Sofía” the perfect song for dancing away heartache while practicing Spanish phrases about love, loss, and letting go.

“Siempre Lo Mismo” is Iñigo Quintero’s sonic diary of heartbreak and confusion. The young Spanish singer lets us step inside his spinning mind as he gasps for emotional air, replaying the instant he lost someone important. Every verse circles back to the same haunting feeling: it’s always the same, an endless loop of sleepless nights, burnt-out memories, and colors fading to gray. The repeated questions and pleas (“¿Dónde vas?”, “Porfa, no me mientas”) show a guy stuck between wanting answers and fearing them, handing over his metaphorical keys in a desperate hope that the other person can unlock what’s tearing him up inside.

Although the lyrics drip with melancholy, the song’s pulsing beat gives the pain an anthemic lift, inviting listeners to shout their own heartache into the chorus. It’s a relatable snapshot of losing your direction — “He perdido el norte” — and realizing that when love ends abruptly, even everyday moments can feel colorless. Sing along, feel the catharsis, and remember you’re not the only one who has ever replayed the same memories on repeat.

Suavemente is a high-energy merengue anthem from Puerto Rican singer Elvis Crespo that revolves around one simple yet irresistible request: “Kiss me… softly!” Throughout the song Crespo pleads for gentle, lingering kisses that make him feel weightless, as if he is floating in the air. The repetition of the word “bésame” (kiss me) mirrors the heartbeat-quickening rhythm of merengue, turning the track into an infectious celebration of passion, flirtation and pure physical chemistry.

Behind the catchy hooks and rapid percussion, the lyrics paint a playful tug-of-war between craving and satisfaction. Each kiss is described as a dream that the singer never wants to wake from, a secret he tries—and fails—to uncover with every embrace. By mixing affectionate words like “suavecito”, “despacito” and “sin prisa”, Crespo contrasts the song’s lightning-fast tempo with a call for unhurried, soul-stirring affection. The result is a feel-good anthem that invites listeners to hit the dance floor, lose themselves in the rhythm, and maybe steal a sweet, soft kiss of their own.

“Corazón Sin Cara” is Prince Royce’s feel-good bachata about loving someone exactly as they are. Over warm guitar rhythms, the Dominican-American singer reassures his partner that true beauty isn’t found in the mirror; it lives in the heart. Whether she worries about weight, skin color, or wearing makeup, he repeats that none of it matters to him. By turning insecurities into a catchy chorus, Royce invites listeners to dance while embracing their own imperfections.

The song’s message is simple yet powerful: nobody is perfect and that’s perfectly fine. Love thrives in the soul, not on the surface, so no wish or makeover could improve what’s already beautiful inside. With candles, prayers, and playful Spanglish shoutouts, “Corazón Sin Cara” becomes both a romantic serenade and a self-love anthem, reminding us all to celebrate our bodies, our hearts, and our unique bachata rhythm.

Me Gustas Tú is a breezy reggae-flavored love chant where Manu Chao, the French-Spanish globetrotter, rattles off a joyful inventory of everything that makes him smile: aviones, la mañana, la guitarra, la lluvia… Yet after each item he circles back to the real star of his list: “me gustas tú” – “I like you.” Between playful radio-style time checks from Havana to Managua, the song paints the picture of a wanderer who relishes travel, flavors, sounds and places, but whose heart keeps tuning to one single frequency.

With its looping structure, the lyric feels like a carefree train of thought: the more he names, the more obvious it becomes that every road, spice and rhythm simply reminds him of this special someone. The repeated question “¿Qué voy a hacer?” – “What am I going to do?” hints at a sweet bewilderment; he is happily lost in love and in motion all at once. The reggae groove underscores that sunny, laid-back vibe, making the song both a catchy vocabulary lesson in me gusta and a celebration of love that follows you wherever you roam.