Learn Spanish With Tito Double P with these 23 Song Recommendations (Full Translations Included!)
TATTOO is Tito Double P’s unruly confession of a love he can’t scrub off his skin or his mind. Over lively Regional Mexican beats, the singer paints himself as the guy who should have moved on, yet still stares at the tattoo of his ex while drowning in shots, lines, and loud late-night parties. Each verse swings between vulnerability and bravado: one moment he’s crying over old photos, the next he’s flinging cash at dancers, trying to laugh the pain away.
The song captures that messy stage after a breakup when coping mechanisms spiral into self-destruction. His ex has literally covered her matching ink with a rude “F-you,” started planning the family life he could never give her, and left him to his own loud, sleepless nights. Tito turns the chaos into a catchy, candid anthem that says, “I’m still a disaster, but at least I’m honest about it.”
Grab your boots, pour a stiff drink, and step into the world of Dos Días. Tito Double P and Peso Pluma paint a raw picture of a love-hate standoff that has dragged on for exactly two silent days. While the girlfriend keeps her distance, the singer numbs the sting with liquor, cocaine, and loud nights out with his crew. He flashes his cash (pacas) and brags about his new conquests, yet every boast is laced with frustration and a hint of emptiness. The track captures that messy mix of pride, heartbreak, and self-destruction that can follow a heated breakup.
Beneath the swagger lies a confession: life without his partner turns him into what he calls a cagadero—pure chaos. Money, parties, and flings feel hollow because none of them fill the space she once occupied. Dos Días is a corrido tumbado that blends Regional Mexican grit with urban slang to show how quickly confidence can crumble when love goes cold. It’s a fiery reminder that all the cash in the world can’t buy peace of mind when the silence on the other end of the phone keeps stretching into another long night.
Por Sus Besos is Tito Double P’s late-night voicemail turned corrido: a hazy snapshot of a man who can’t accept that his love line has gone dead.
From the first verse he is lost in every sense of the word. His calls dive straight into voicemail, a friend swears “she’s already asleep”, and he knows it’s a lie because she always turns off her phone when she’s out drinking. That tiny act of silence sends him spinning. He paces through memories of her kisses, her body, her voice, replaying each detail like a scratched record. It is February, the so-called month of love, yet he is alone in the small hours, begging the night to take him anywhere but here.
The chorus is his raw confession: he aches “por sus besos, por su cuerpo, por su voz, por su tiempo, por supuesto por su amor.” In other words, he misses everything. The upbeat regional instrumentation contrasts with his shattered mood, turning heartache into a drinking-song anthem. Tito Double P captures that distinctly Mexican blend of bravado and vulnerability—where tough talk hides a bruised corazón—making Por Sus Besos a relatable soundtrack for anyone who has ever waited by the phone that never lights up.
Tito Double P turns heartbreak into a fireworks show of bravado and banda swagger. In “Nadie,” the Mexican singer brushes off an ex who keeps calling, declaring that he has better and prettier lovers now, plus endless parties stocked with Dom Pérignon and “mota cherry.” The corridos-influenced beat backs his mix of resentment and pride while he toasts to forgetting her name one bottle at a time.
Beneath the cocky one-liners, the song reveals a tug-of-war between memories and moving on. He flashes back to steamy nights “bajo la luna llena” and reminds her of all the little details she never noticed. Yet he ends each verse by admitting that every love story eventually runs out of fuel—“todo algún día se acaba.” The result is a cathartic anthem for anyone who wants to dance away the sting of rejection with a raised glass and a louder banda horn section.
ESCÁPATE throws you into a late-night cruise through the barrios of Mexico, where roaring pickup trucks, burnt-rubber scent, and booming corridos set the mood. Tito Double P and Chino Pacas play the audacious suitor who keeps looping past his crush’s house, flaunting adrenaline and attitude. He knows she is stuck with a guy she does not even like, while her strict mom tries to keep her in line. Each verse is a neon invitation: ditch the boring boyfriend, hop in the truck, feel the thrill.
Behind the swagger lies a simple promise. Tito will give her what the other man only talks about: designer bags, live serenades under her window, and nights overflowing with pleasure. The song celebrates rebellious romance and the lure of freedom, urging the girl to trust her desires and escape with the one who can actually light up her world.
**“Champagne” splashes you into Tito Double P’s bittersweet after-party, where street swagger meets wounded romance. Picture a rough-around-the-edges gangster under the moonlight, begging for love, popping corks, and promising designer Birkins. He tries to mask his heartbreak with luxury bubbles and late-night tequila rounds, yet every toast reminds him of the one kiss he still craves.
Behind the bravado, the narrator wrestles with regret: he doesn’t really want the other women, just forgiveness from the one who left. Expensive gifts, rowdy nights, and the label bandolero can’t fill the empty vase that once held her flowers. “Champagne” is a catchy confession that mixes Regional Mexican flair with raw emotion, showing how even the toughest vato can feel vulnerable when love slips away.
EL LOKERON throws you straight into a four-day, no-sleep fiesta where Tito Double P flaunts his wild side. With his cap tilted, eyes half-closed, and a huge pistol at his hip, he owns the night. Clouds of smoke roll from lowered car windows, armored trucks rumble behind him, and a diamond-studded Rolex flashes on his wrist. The phone keeps buzzing with his girlfriend’s missed calls, yet Tito is too busy dancing with her bolder friend, proving that this crazy streak – the loquerón – comes from pure adrenaline, not heartbreak.
Behind the swagger lies a snapshot of modern corrido culture: luxury convoys, endless bottles, and TikTok-famous party girls worth “medio millón.” Tito paints a picture of excess where loyalty belongs to the crew and the celebration never stops. The song is a high-octane anthem to living fast, spending big, and embracing the label of “loco cabrón” with a grin, reminding listeners that sometimes the real buzz is simply the thrill of the ride.
Picture a moonlit night in Mexico, the air thick with the scent of tequila and sea-salt. Tito Double P and Junior H open “5-7” by confessing just how hard it is to be away from the woman who fuels their fire. Over twangy guitars and a slow corrido groove, they paint a scene of restless longing: memories of stolen kisses, late-night passion, and grand promises of jewels and roses if she will simply admit that the love is still alive.
Yet this isn’t a simple love ballad. The title “5-7” nods to a firearm often mentioned in corridos — a symbol of the singer’s gritty, streetwise persona. As he cruises with his cinco-siete, smokes, parties on sun-drenched beaches, and flirts with temptation, the narrator’s swagger never quite masks his vulnerability. The song’s charm lies in that tension: a tough, bélico exterior wrapped around a heart that beats only for one hermosa princesa. In short, “5-7” is a soundtrack of late-night cravings, reckless bravado, and an unshakeable desire to be loved back.
Tito Double P turns the volume up on excess in “Rosones,” a corrido-trap anthem that flaunts the wild side of newfound fame. Over a hard-hitting beat, the Mexican artist paints a picture of all-night parties packed with crystal bottles, private flights, designer outfits, and Instagram models. The word rosones (love bites) becomes a cheeky promise of passion, while the repeated shout-outs to weed, blunts, and booming corridones set the soundtrack for a nonstop celebration.
Beneath the flashy details lies a simple message: when you have money, influence, and the right crew, the world feels like one big VIP room where “aquí no hay falla” – nothing can go wrong. Tito boasts about his fearless confidence, his long list of admirers, and the envy he stirs up, but he also slips in a tongue-in-cheek disclaimer that he isn’t the jealous type. The result is a bold, swagger-filled snapshot of modern Mexican street culture where luxury, bravado, and carefree pleasure rule the night.
PRIMO drops you straight into a neon-lit Mexican night where swagger, adrenaline, and danger ride side by side. Tito Double P and Natanael Cano spin a corrido tumbado narrative that starts with pure party vibes: flashy entrances, top-shelf bottles, and the pursuit of the most stunning girl in the club. The cousins (“primo”) are living large, flaunting style with a couple of “Lady Gaga” drinks in hand, convinced the night will be all glitter and celebration.
The mood flips in a heartbeat. A scuffle sparks, gunshots crack, and the once-glamorous scene turns chaotic. Sirens, fear, and missing friends replace the music’s thump as the narrator scrambles to safety, wounded yet defiantly standing tall. Beneath the hard-edged bravado, the song hints at the thin line between thrill and tragedy in the fast life. PRIMO is both a boastful anthem and a cautionary tale, capturing the rush of living on the edge in Mexico’s modern urban corridos movement.
“Ay, mamá” is a lively Regional Mexican anthem that turns a night of heartbreak into a sing-along confessional. Tito Double P and Grupo Frontera tell the story of a swaggering ladies’ man who gets blindsided when he spots his ex with someone new. One photo, one glance at an old phone, and his world flips: the once-confident flirt is now pacing the bar, nursing tequila shots, and scrolling through memories that hurt more than any hangover.
Between accordion riffs and playful call-outs, the song captures that tug-of-war between wounded pride and stubborn bravado. The narrator asks, “¿Qué hubiera sido de nosotros dos?” while pretending he’s just fine lining up dates and selfies for Instagram. Under the macho jokes and beer-soaked bravado, you can feel the raw sting of jealousy and regret. In short, “Ay, mamá” is a bittersweet cumbia-infused reminder that even the most confident heart can break—and when it does, it usually hides behind loud music and a stronger drink.
“Dembow Bélico” drops listeners into a high-energy night where swagger meets danger. Over a pounding dembow pulse blended with corrido guitars, Tito Double P, Joel De La P, and Luis R Conriquez paint the picture of a crew that wakes up rolling joints, rides out armed with Scars and flamethrowers, and answers late-night calls from flirty girls. The lyrics flaunt fast money, designer outfits, and nonstop partying, yet every flex is backed by the constant presence of firepower and cartel code words like “tres letras” and “JGL.” It is a soundtrack for soldiers of the street who balance business deals with bottles of Old Parr and clouds of smoke.
Rather than telling a traditional narrative, the song works like a boast-filled Instagram story: quick snapshots of armored trucks, red-eyed revelers, and bundles of cash meant to impress friends and intimidate rivals. The repeated lines about “morra high,” Marlboros, and “perico” (cocaine) highlight a lifestyle where pleasure and risk are inseparable. Ultimately, “Dembow Bélico” celebrates the adrenaline rush of living on the edge, blending modern urban slang with regional Mexican bravado to create an anthem of reckless confidence and unfiltered excess.
MR INTERNACIONAL celebrates the jet-setting, larger-than-life lifestyle that Tito Double P now enjoys after rising to fame. Over a driving Regional Mexican beat, the singer looks back on simpler days when he actually drove his own car; today he relaxes at 180 km/h without even touching the wheel. Surrounded by designer clothes, Moon Rocks, luxury cruises, and friends who party from Spain to Los Cabos, he paints a vivid picture of a world filled with champagne showers, jetskis, and lobster lunches on the coast.
Beneath the glitter, Tito throws a playful jab at critics and freeloaders who tell him how to spend his cash. “Mr. Internacional” pushes back with confidence: he does what he wants, wherever he lands, and hears only “yes, sir” from those around him. The song is an anthem of self-made success, global adventure, and unapologetic enjoyment of the finer things in life.
Hop into La Troka and buckle up. Tito Double P and Eslabon Armado paint a cinematic scene where a confident guy revs his pickup, cranks a corridón, and invites his crush for a thrill-filled ride. The lyrics mix flirtation and bravado: he calls her mija, asks her to pass the «bolsa», and teases that people think she is crazy— but he admits he is the real wild one. With friends on standby and a house conveniently empty, the night promises spontaneity, mischief, and undeniable chemistry.
Beneath the playful swagger, the song captures the pulse of modern regional Mexican music. The truck becomes a symbol of freedom, youthful rebellion, and intimacy on wheels. Every line emphasizes mutual desire, from replaying steamy memories “in that seat” to turning up their signature song that drives her “loca.” It is a bold, catchy ode to late-night adventures, reminding learners that language can ride shotgun with rhythm, attitude, and a whole lot of heart.
Linda is Tito Double P’s playful love letter to a stunning, free-spirited woman who stops every party in its tracks. Over a bouncy, bass-heavy beat, the Mexican artist teams up with Neton Vega to shower this irresistible muse with bold compliments: her curves are YouTube-worthy, her dance moves turn heads, and her confidence has no competition. The chorus’ addictive “Ay, ay, linda” hook hammers home just how smitten the singers are, promising they’ll do “whatever it takes” to win her over.
Beneath the flirty swagger, the song paints a vivid nightlife scene—sparks fly on the dance floor, blunts are lit, luxury sneakers stomp to the rhythm, and a shiny Mercedes waits outside. Yet all the bravado circles back to one truth: Linda is their sweet addiction and possible downfall, a “drug” they can’t resist. It’s a fun, high-energy track that celebrates desire, devotion, and the magnetic pull of a woman who knows her worth.
Get ready for a spicy ride through heartbreak and high-society excess! In “FARANDULITAS,” Mexican artist Tito Double P turns a messy breakup into a flashy story filled with designer gifts, club nights, and sarcastic one-liners. The narrator once worshiped his girl like a diosa, but now claims he’s “changed religions,” replacing devotion with tusi, mota, and random hookups. Luxury items zip by—Balenciaga, Lady Dior, shades for the sun—yet none of them can buy real love or ease the sting of being ignored when he calls.
Behind the catchy beat lies a sharp critique of shallow glamour. The ex-girlfriend wanted a fairy-tale romance, but all she got was “el cuerno” (slang for being cheated on). Meanwhile our narrator stews in a whirlwind of farandulitas, cigarros, and bodies in the backseat, admitting he’s the “vagabundo” while she clings to another “pendejo.” The song’s playful tone masks a truth many listeners will recognize: when relationships are built on image rather than substance, somebody ends up heartbroken—usually both sides, no matter how many roses or sneakers you throw at the problem.
“LA BANDOLERA” is Tito Double P’s flashy postcard from the fast lane. Over a hard-hitting corrido tumbado beat, the Mexican artist paints a neon-lit picture of life at top speed: wads of hundred-dollar bills bursting out of his shoulder bag, diamond-studded watches that sparkle like camera flashes, and an AMG roaring through red lights at 180. Every line flexes a new badge of success—VIP tables, pink champagne, a curvy blonde, and a loyal entourage that never left his side.
Beneath the glitter, the song also carries a rebellious motto: “No me importa si yo vivo o muero, por eso siempre hago lo que quiero.” Tito celebrates living on his own terms, fully aware that his choices court danger. He shrugs it off, focusing instead on the thrill of blowing money till sunrise and protecting the people who protect him. The result is an adrenaline-charged anthem that captures the rush of quick riches, loyalty, and zero regrets.
BLANCA ROSITA Y MARIA invites us to ride shotgun in Tito Double P’s Porsche on a no-rules night out in Mexico. The narrator bounces from one glamorous scene to the next, flaunting his fast car, his taste for good company, and his love of living in the moment. Three names keep popping up — Blanca, Rosita, and María — presented as flirtatious friends who each add something special to the party. Listen closely and you will notice a playful double meaning: they might be real women, or they might be nicknames for different indulgences that fuel the evening’s excitement. Either way, they represent variety and temptation, turning an ordinary night into an unforgettable escapade.
Behind the catchy corrido beat, the song is a celebration of pleasure, secrecy, and swagger. Tito reassures his morenita that no one will find out what happens once the band packs up at four, promising her a private after-party she will not forget. The repeated lines and upbeat rhythm mirror the pulse of a buzzing nightclub, while the lyrics paint a picture of confidence, seduction, and the thrill of bending the rules when the city lights go dim. It is an irresistible soundtrack for anyone craving a taste of nocturnal freedom.
“Tú Sí” is a cheeky love confession wrapped in Regional Mexican swagger. Tito Double P teams up with Armenta to play the role of the so-called problem boyfriend: he is broke, a bit of a troublemaker, and definitely not the type your friends would approve of. Yet, that is exactly what makes the romance so electrifying. The song paints late-night scenes of cheap beer, weed, and whispered promises, contrasting luxury stereotypes (Dom Pérignon) with the couple’s down-to-earth vibe (caguamas). Tito laughs at the rumors, boasting that if her friends knew what really happens in her bed, they would want him too. His confidence is playful, never apologizing for who he is.
Beneath the bravado lies a genuine devotion. He calls her “princesa,” likens their duo to Barbie and Ken, and vows protection even while flexing his street credibility (“Superón para mi protección”). The chorus “tú sí” is a simple yet powerful green light: you are the one, and the choice is yours. In short, the track celebrates a rebellious, imperfect love where passion outweighs status, and two misfits find bliss in each other’s chaos.
“CHINO” plunges listeners into the fast-paced corrido universe where swagger, strategy, and survival intersect. Tito Double P teams up with Neto Vega to profile Chino, a sharp-minded lieutenant who raises a “whiskyito,” keeps his Glock and cuerno within reach, and moves fearlessly under the watchful eye of Señor Plumas. Shout-outs to code names like 02, crews such as Los Alfas and Los Deltas, and hotspots from La Perla to Michoacán, Vallarta, and Jalisco sketch a map of cartel influence, loyalty, and territorial pride.
Beyond the bravado, the song feels like a mission log: RZR off-roaders roaring with adrenaline, caravans of trucks heading “pa’l charco,” bankrolls ready to “truena,” and traitors fixed squarely in the sights. Every lyric underscores an unwritten code—respect the boss, trust your circle, and never drop your guard. Packed with vivid street imagery and urgent guitar-driven beats, “CHINO” offers a cinematic glimpse of corrido culture where luxury and danger ride side by side, and reputation is the ultimate currency.
Get ready for a wild ride along the Mexico-US border. Pajuelazo bursts with swagger as Tito Double P and Luis R Conriquez paint the picture of an outlaw who never lets anyone slow his stride. He taunts his rivals for running scared, boasts that no one can keep up with his pace, and claims the frontier as his personal playground. The lyrics switch between sharp humor and gritty bravado, showing a man who moves freely, powered by sheer nerve and a fearless attitude.
A pajuelazo is the quick spark that lights a joint, and that image captures the song’s vibe: fast, fiery, and unapologetically bold. Between puffs of weed, bursts of gunfire-like ad-libs, and references to women, parties, and heavy firepower, the narrator pauses just long enough to remember a brother who was taken away. That moment of loyalty adds depth to an otherwise adrenaline-filled anthem about survival, dominance, and living life at full throttle.
Detona plunges us into the flashy, turbo-charged universe of Mexico’s newcorridos, where swagger and danger dance to an infectious beat. Tito Double P and Gabito Ballesteros paint the portrait of a protagonist who thanks San Judas for protection, then dives head-first into every excess imaginable: alcohol, sex, designer brands, and the ever-present "perico" (cocaine). He boasts that he needs no police badge—"no ocupo charola"—because his reputation and his trusted .45 do all the talking. When haters stir trouble, he simply "detona" (detonates), silencing mouths and proving why people already know his name.
Beneath the bravado, the song captures the modern corridos bélicos spirit: a raw celebration of upward mobility and fearless self-confidence shaped by Mexico’s streets. References to Louis Vuitton and Dior mingle with gritty slang, reminding listeners that luxury and risk walk hand-in-hand in this world. Detona invites you to step inside that pulse-pounding nightlife—glamour, vice, and unfiltered honesty—while showcasing the magnetic storytelling that keeps regional Mexican music evolving and electrifying new audiences.
“MARAVILLA” explodes like a neon-lit snapshot of Tito Double P’s wild nights. The Mexican artist opens by asking San Judas for forgiveness, yet he immediately dives back into a whirlwind of white powder, sleepless parties, roaring guns, and a bulletproof ride. Over a corrido-tumbado beat, he flaunts the contrast of street grit and high-end glamour: cocaine in a humble Jetta, stacks of cash tucked inside a Louis V bag, and a pink Cartier watch flashing under club lights.
The lyrics celebrate living al estilo malandrón—always on the move, always armed, always surrounded by “chamacas pickies” who light his blunts while he showers them with Sephora shopping sprees and Victoria’s Secret lingerie. It is a boastful anthem where danger, excess, and luxury collide, leaving listeners caught between admiration and caution as Tito proudly declares, once more, “¡Qué maravilla!”