**“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.
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.
“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.
“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 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.
“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.
“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.
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.
“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.
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.
“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.
“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?
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.
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.
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.
“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.
Peso Pluma turns the beach vibe into a lifestyle anthem in Todo Es Playa. Over a laid-back corrido tumbado groove, he paints a cinematic scene of late-night cruises from Tijuana to San Diego, top-shelf Martell in hand, Swishers in rotation, and a suitcase full of confidence. Nicknamed “Ruso”, he brags about breaking borders without needing a green card, flaunting his international drip and the tiger-stripe tattoos that show how much the journey has cost him. Even so, he keeps divine protection close, reminding us that faith rides shotgun while he takes off on another flight of hazy freedom.
Under the swagger, the chorus delivers the core message: Todo es playa—everything is beach. Problems melt away when you are with your crew, a pre-roll, and a sky wide open for possibilities. Critics might label him “crazy” or “grifo,” but Peso Pluma flips that judgment into fuel, proving there is nothing like his circle. The song invites listeners to loosen up, light up, and remember that with the right friends and mindset, life can feel as carefree as a day at the shore.
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.
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.
“Las Morras” is a high-energy Corrido Tumbado where Peso Pluma and Blessed brag about the fast-moving world they now rule. Picture stacks of cash constantly changing hands, designer Jordans stomping through exclusive clubs, and jewelry that glitters from Medellín all the way to Moscow. The artists toast to their hard-earned success, reminding us that none of these diamonds, watches, or champagne showers were inherited. They fought for every peso, so now they celebrate with wild nights, viral videos, and a loyal crew they call Puro Doble P.
Amid the flashing lights, “las morras” – the girls – are hypnotized by the duo’s confidence. Kisses, dancing, and a hint of “pink powder” fuel the party, making flowers unnecessary. Even with the over-the-top luxury, Peso Pluma keeps repeating one word: bendecido (blessed). It is his way of saying that beneath the swagger and excess, he is grateful for the journey that took him from the streets of Antioquia to international fame, and he plans to keep that winning momentum rolling.
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. 🔥🚚💨
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.
LA PEOPLE throws you straight into the fast-paced streets of Culiacán, a city famous for its corridos and larger-than-life figures. Peso Pluma and Tito Double P paint a cinematic picture of a young commander who knows every escape route, outsmarts the “verdes” (military police), and roars away in a supercharged convoy. Luxury details — Dior boots, an armored truck, a SCAR rifle — flash by like neon signs, showing that style and status are part of the game just as much as courage and quick thinking.
Under the high-energy beat of corrido tumbado, the lyrics celebrate loyalty to the Guzmán flag, pride in Sinaloan roots, and the thrill of living on the edge. The protagonist reminds everyone that he has resources, firepower, and talent in abundance, so chasing him is a bad idea. In short, the song is an adrenaline-laced anthem about outmaneuvering authority, enjoying life’s luxuries, and keeping unbreakable ties to one’s crew and homeland.