Learn Spanish with Reggaeton 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.

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.

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.

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 “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.

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.

In La Perla, Spain’s boundary-pushing ROSALÍA teams up with Mexican trio Yahritza Y Su Esencia to roast a smooth-talking playboy who shines like a precious pearl but cuts like broken glass. Across biting metaphors and playful Spanglish, the singers sketch a man who dazzles everyone with charm, money he doesn’t have, and an ego the size of the universe. Yet under the glitter lies a “terrorista emocional”: a serial heart-breaker who borrows everything, returns nothing, and blames even his own doppelgänger for the mess he leaves behind.

The song flips the classic love ballad on its head. Instead of swooning, the voices unite in a witty intervention that shouts out every red flag—dishonesty, disloyalty, ghosting, even a trophy collection of stolen bras. By the end, the so-called pearl is exposed as fool’s gold, and listeners are warned to steer clear of anyone who sparkles too hard to be true. Catchy, dramatic, and full of attitude, La Perla is a musical PSA that trusting the wrong shine can cost you your peace of mind.

Andrea paints the vivid portrait of a young Puerto Rican woman who leaves the iconic neighborhood of La Perla at four in the morning with dreams as fast as a Civic and a mind as sharp as a Tesla. Bad Bunny and Buscabulla let us peek into her nightly hustle, her college hopping, and her juggling of romance, family expectations, and street gossip. Everyone has an opinion about her, yet nobody truly knows her: she only craves understanding, affection, and the freedom to be herself without being forced to change.

Behind the infectious reggaeton beat, the song tackles bigger issues—misogyny, social double standards, economic struggle, and the daily dangers of simply existing as a woman in Puerto Rico. Andrea refuses to be reduced to labels; she wants respect, safety, and room to chase her own sunshine. By the time the chorus hits, she stands as a symbol of resilience and female empowerment: a “jefa” who might be crumbling inside but still walks out the door looking “cabrona,” ready to ride life’s waves and silence the critics with her own unshakeable rhythm.

“Mía” pairs Puerto Rico’s Bad Bunny with global superstar Drake for a reggaeton declaration of exclusive love. Across a hypnotic beat, both artists face down rivals and admirers, repeating the irresistible hook “Dile que tú eres mía”—tell them you’re mine. The lyrics blend swagger and sincerity: Bad Bunny offers todo lo mío, hasta mi respirar (everything, even my breath), brags about viral photos and sneaker collections, while Drake smoothly backs him up. Every line draws a boundary around a romance so strong that even death, gossip, or social-media likes can’t break it.

Beneath the bravado lies a universal theme—protecting and celebrating a bond that feels meant to be. “Mía” turns jealousy into fuel for passion, inviting listeners to dance, sing along, and revel in the thrill of proudly claiming someone special.

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.

“LA CANCIÓN” is that irresistible reggaeton confession where J Balvin and Bad Bunny admit what many of us secretly know: one song can shatter the illusion of moving on. The track opens with the pair convinced they have already forgotten an old flame, only for their song to start playing at the club. Instantly, the memories crash back—nights of singing off-key, stumbling dances, and tipsy kisses that felt like the world’s best idea. Over a slow, hypnotic beat, they laugh at themselves for thinking a string of casual hookups, a few English ballads, or swaggering bravado could erase genuine feelings.

As the alcohol flows, each verse dives deeper into nostalgia: back-seat rendezvous, beach adventures, stealthy visits to a strict parent’s house, even the scent of Chanel mixed with sweat. The singers recognize that time has passed and their ex is happy with someone else, yet the moment that old melody surfaces, the past seems vivid and alive. Ultimately, “LA CANCIÓN” captures that bittersweet tug-of-war between pride and vulnerability, proving that music can reopen scars, revive joy, and remind us that some loves never fade completely, no matter how many times we hit “next track.”

"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.

In “Dákiti,” Bad Bunny and Jhay Cortez invite us into a secret world where passion, luxury, and late-night adventure mix with the hypnotic pulse of reggaeton. The narrators speak directly to a confident, free-spirited woman, promising to take her wherever she hasn’t gone yet—from elite shopping sprees in Sephora and Louis Vuitton to wild after-parties full of wine and weed. Their chemistry is electric and unapologetic; they keep things private, brushing off any gossip with the swagger of someone who knows the night is theirs.

Beyond the sensual bravado, the song celebrates mutual freedom and modern romance on their own terms. She is independent, studying to be a doctor, yet still loves the thrill of motorcycles and nightlife. He respects that strength, offering partnership rather than possession while pledging constant presence—“veinticuatro horas.” With its catchy hook and shimmering production, “Dákiti” becomes an anthem for living boldly in love, shielding intimate moments from prying eyes, and dancing under Caribbean stars with no regrets.

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.

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.

“Neverita” feels like a sun-drenched day on a Puerto Rican beach. Over a playful reggaeton rhythm, Bad Bunny paints the scene: a confident guy can’t take his eyes off a dazzling “chamaquita” who claims she is spending the summer solita with her corazón en la neverita—her heart “on ice.” Even though she is flooded with DMs, swatting away admirers like waves, he is ready to stand in line and try his luck.

The lyrics mix flirtation and humor. He offers to rub on her sunblock so she ≠gets burned⬄, scroll TikTok together, and turn her cold heart into something warm. She might call herself an abusadora (heartbreaker), but he is convinced he can thaw that cooler and turn a solo summer into a sizzling romance. The song captures that push-and-pull between freedom and attraction, making “Neverita” a breezy anthem for anyone flirting with the idea of love while trying to stay cool.

Desde El Corazón is Bad Bunny’s love letter to Puerto Rico, served over a thumping reggaeton beat. In it, he retraces his journey “de abajo” to millionaire status while pledging never to forget the streets where he penned his first verse. Dropping area codes, beach sounds, and local basketball teams, he paints a vibrant picture of home pride: the sun that never stops shining, Christmas parranda parties on jet skis, and the ever-present rhythm of salsa and reggaeton. Every reference shouts, “I made it, but I’m still yours.”

The track is also a roll call of the island’s musical heroes. From Daddy Yankee to Héctor Lavoe, Bad Bunny tips his cap to the giants who cleared the path for his generation. By the time he signs off as “El Conejo desde el corazón,” the message is clear: success means little without honoring your roots, your people, and the culture that raised you. This is more than a brag; it’s a celebration of Puerto Rican resilience, unity, and limitless creative fire.

Callaita revolves around a seemingly quiet girl who keeps her wild side under wraps until the sun goes down. By day she is the model student, yet at night she dives head-first into reggaetón culture: dancing, tequila shots, beach parties, and a carefree mix of weed and rum. Bad Bunny paints her as a symbol of duality — someone who looks innocent but confidently owns her sexuality and freedom when the music starts. The chorus repeats that she is calladita (soft-spoken), but when it comes to intimacy she knows exactly what she wants, celebrating pleasure without shame.

At the same time the lyrics hint at a backstory. “She wasn’t like this… I don’t know who damaged her,” Bad Bunny sings, suggesting heartbreak or betrayal pushed her toward this liberated lifestyle. Rather than judging her, he admires how she reclaims joy with friends, dismisses envy with “paz y amor,” and lives by the motto “si hay sol, hay playa… si hay alcohol, hay sexo.” Ultimately the song is an ode to self-expression and living in the moment, wrapped in a hypnotic Tainy beat that invites listeners to drop their inhibitions and dance right beside her.

El Perdón spins the heartfelt tale of a man who discovers that the love of his life is marrying someone else, and the news hits him like a lightning bolt. Nicky Jam’s verses paint the picture of a broken-hearted wanderer roaming the streets, literally shouting her name, drowning his pain in drinks, and begging the universe for a second chance. He admits his mistakes, pleads for perdón (forgiveness), and insists that life without her just “doesn’t feel right.”

Enter Enrique Iglesias with his soaring hook, and the emotion jumps even higher. Together they hammer home the song’s central question: If we are not together, who can really be happy? Family disapproval, new lovers, and past missteps all stand in the way, yet the singer’s devotion refuses to fade. “El Perdón” turns that universal mix of regret and relentless hope into a catchy reggaeton anthem, proving that sometimes the biggest party songs are really cries from the heart.

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.

Karol G teams up with romantic legend Marco Antonio Solís to deliver a bittersweet reggaeton confession where rhythm meets raw emotion. In “Coleccionando Heridas” the Colombian superstar wonders if love simply is not for her, admitting that she always ends up alone and nursing the opposite of what she wishes for. The chorus paints a vivid picture: while “experts” claim real love belongs to the past, she refuses to switch off her feelings even if that means she keeps “collecting wounds.”

The song moves between vulnerability and quiet strength. Karol G speaks to soledad as an old friend, wrestles with memories that refuse to fade, and pleads with the heavens for a way to silence relentless thoughts. Yet beneath the sorrow lies a spark of hope; she wants to believe love is still possible. If not, she declares with poignant honesty that she will simply keep adding scars to her growing collection, turning pain into proof that her heart is still very much alive.

“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.