The 50 Best Bad Bunny Songs

While the world was becoming acquainted with more pop-leaning Latin sounds, “25/8” served as a reminder of the bar-for-bar bravado assembled in Puerto Rico. Built on the calculated songwriting of Eladio Carrion and the bold wordsmithery of Bad Bunny, “25/8” became the street anthem that the artist’s day-one trap en español fans still revere from YHLQMDLG — and it remains a meaningful example of how numerous reggaeton subgenres are a byproduct of hip-hop. —B.A.

One of the most playful moments on Un Verano Sin Ti finds Bad Bunny trying to woo someone who isn’t ready to be tied down — and having a blast the entire time. The electro-inspired track is built on jittery beats and washed-out guitars, ethereal touches that emphasize Bad Bunny’s voice. The song’s video is a testament to how much fun he had: Bad Bunny re-creates the early web aesthetics of Elvis Crespo’s iconic “Suavemente” from 1998, calling it “the best video of all time.” —M.J.

On an album powered by chugging guitar riffs, “Trellas” is a serene respite. It collages dream-pop textures and misty-eyed vocals à la Gustavo Cerati, the frontman of the iconic Argentine rock band Soda Stereo. But it also feels authentically Benito, thanks to its wistful, sad-boy lyrics and celestial synths. The El Último Tour del Mundo cut is just more proof of his ambition to transcend the world of reggaeton and ascend the ranks as a global pop star.  —I.H.

Built on a sample of the Plan B track “Bellaqueo,” this old-school-inspired neoperreito channels the energy of a sweaty underground reggaeton party. The song is a knockout from Bad Bunny’s stellar debut album, X 100pre, picking up right where the energetic outro of “Solo de Mí” left off. Warped vocals and a deconstructed dembow beat that closes the track establish Bad Bunny as a reggaetonero keen on experimenting the limits of the genre while honoring the ghosts of marquesinas past. —E.R.P.

This is Benito in no fucks mode. Riding a sinister trap beat with Puerto Rican rapper Luar La L, Bunny greets his critics — and flips them off.  Un saludo pa’ lo’ hater’, ¿cómo están? /Que me odien, eso e’ parte de mi plan // A greeting to the haters, how’re you doing? / What, you hate me? It’s part of my plan. There’s talk of popping seven Adderall, of G4s and Can-Am bikes and Lamborghinis and Corvettes and passing fools at 200 miles an hour while they sleep. The tune has exactly four words in English that neatly sum up the whole song: “suck my dick, motherfucker.” —N.S. 

No one expected Bad Bunny to embrace razor-sharp guitars and slashing rock on El Último Tour del Mundo, but “Te Deseo Lo Mejor” was a bold commitment to bringing those sounds into his world. On the alt-rock breakup ballad, produced by the album’s top collaborator Marco “MAG” Borrero, Bad Bunny launches into a full-throated goodbye and apology as he walks away from a relationship — but before letting things get too dramatic, he dropped a video in collaboration with The Simpsons to add a sense of humor to the release.  —J.L.

This melancholic dream-pop track could have been a forgettable example of rappers whining about how sad they are amid egregious wealth if it wasn’t so genuinely emotive. The floating production and sparse beats tap right into the neon film-noir undercurrent of the 305 as Bad Bunny mourns a lost love, expanding his voice into a delicious falsetto during the chorus’s crescendo. You can’t help but want to bring him a tissue as he cries in the Bentley, imagining the relationship he left behind. —E.R.P.

It’s hard to call a Bad Bunny track “nostalgic,” considering he’s only been making music for the past six years — but “La Difícil” already feels evocative of Benito at the height of his YHLQMDLG era, back in 2020. On the wistful song, he goes into detail about how drawn he is to a lover who doesn’t want to be claimed. He stays true to the reggaeton that raised him while pushing his production choices — the work of Subelo Neo, Lenex, and a then-rising Mora — and exploring more pop-centric sounds. —B.B.

Since Rauw Alejandro began turning heads with his snappy popetón sensibilities and his onstage dance skills, fans had been requesting the big El Conejo-El Zorro team up. It finally happened with “Party,” a riotous, uptempo bop centered around a catchy sample from the singer-songwriter Elena Rose. Benito’s and Rauw’s vocals bring the right amount of frisky energy to the lyrics and make this a song to put on constant repeat. —J.J.A.

Though “Mia” dropped with nary a rollout, it only made sense that two of the most popular men in music got together and made a crossover moment so smooth you could slip on it. Bad Bunny boldly let Drake bust out his lover-boy charm and the Spanish he studied for the song’s first verse and chorus before gliding in with more-advanced slick talk. 2018: what a time to be alive. —M.C.

Bad Bunny has repeatedly shown the world that though reggaeton will always be the root of who he is, he can do so much more. “Maldita Pobreza” saw him lean heavily into his rock influences while laying out verses about the woes of being broke: “Bottles of champagne, but I don’t have enough for a beer,” he rapped over fuzzed-out guitars that drew comparisons to Argentine rock legends Los Enanitos Verde. The lyrics serve as a playful callback to the days before Bad Bunny was making $10 million at stadium shows. —B.B.

Most Bad Bunny fans remember where they were when he dropped YHLQMDLG, which started with the unexpected opener, “Si Veo a Tu Mamá.” Easily one of the artist’s more sentimental tracks, it showed off his inner Pisces as he traded booming raps for a lovelorn croon, stretched out over a playful, Nintendo-like electronic melody that many compared to “The Girl From Ipanema.” One could argue that the breakup song is an ode to one of Benito’s biggest inspirations, Seventies salsero Hector Lavoe, another master of heartbreak and emotion. —B.B.

“Moscow Mule” was the prelude to an explosive summer for Bad Bunny. It set the tone for Un Verano Sin Ti with the sound of beach waves, capturing the thrill of the ultimate summer fling. Though the song isn’t his most inventive, it had a massive impact: It led to tweets, memes, and TikToks, plus mass store searches for the $10 T-shirt he wears in the video. The song represents another turn in his career, when Bad Bunny went from being ours to belonging to the world. —B.B.

“Ser Bichote” speaks to Bad Bunny’s ability to narrate a nuanced Puerto Rican experience. The track marked the beginning of his direct affronts toward Puerto Rican politicians, continued efforts that led him to become a central figure in the ouster of former Gov. Ricardo Rosselló in 2019. A stark chronicle of the gaudy rewards that come with drug dealing, something inextricably linked to school closures, poverty, and governmental neglect, the song nods to reggaeton’s roots as a narrative device for poor and marginalized communities on the archipelago. —F.S.S.

About a minute into “Después de la Playa,” El Conejo Malo pulls an insane trick out of his hat: What opens as a woozy, synthed-out track transforms into full-blown merengue, offering the world another example of how Bad Bunny has set the bar as a musician with an uncanny ear and wildly broad span of influences. The song, already a highlight on Un Verano Sin Ti, is emblematic of his approach to music: Bad Bunny hace lo que le de la gana, genre be damned. —E.R.P.

By the time Bad Bunny released X 100pre, he’d established a reputation as a melancholic romantic. “Si Estuviésemos Juntos” reinforces his knack for wistful reggaeton that fits today’s “perrear y llorar” subgenre. Pulling heartstrings even further, Bad Bunny references R.K.M and Ken-Y’s 2006 breakup anthem, “Down,” which nods to the album’s central thesis — the experience of being a kid born in the golden era of Puerto Rico’s reggaeton — and makes listeners long for bygone days of young love and heart-shaped balloons. —F.S.S.

Bad Bunny teamed up with Chencho Corleone, known from the beloved reggaeton duo Plan B, for one of the biggest breakout singles from Un Verano Sin Ti. Benito’s rhymes are all about being ready to give up his playboy lifestyle for one girl, and he manages to sneak in a few head-turning lines that emphasize his clever wordplay: “Si quiere’ te hago un bebé, O te traigo la ‘Plan B?” he quips. Meanwhile, a pulsing beat and Corleone’s infectious chorus make the track an instant classic. —B.B.

Released with Residente and iLe under a pseudonym, “Afilando Los Cuchillos” soundtracked a people’s revolution that was a long time coming. The protest anthem was written as a response to the leaked communications of former Puerto Rican Gov. Ricardo Rosselló and his cabinet, which included texts filled with homophobic, vulgar, and racist messages. Bad Bunny’s recognizable baritone roars atop a grimy bass as he tears into the Rosselló administration and calls for Puerto Ricans to rise up. —E.R.P.

“Soy Peor” is a tenebrous tale of rotten love, one that unfolds like the origin story of a troubled superhero. The song became Bad Bunny’s first massive solo hit, a sign he was more than just the industry’s go-to feature of the moment. It cemented him as the poster boy of the then-burgeoning “Latin trap” sound, but it also sketched a blueprint for his future explorations of tortured, sad-boy masculinity, a central pillar of his pop appeal. —I.H.

There are plenty of odes to baddies in reggaeton, but you can always count on Bad Bunny to put a fresh spin on even the most overused conceits. He does so brilliantly on “Efecto”: The song opens with a muffled bass that teases the lurid perreo just around the corner, simulating the experience of walking up to the club. And whenever this song blares out, you could power an entire city with the energy exerted by people yelling “El-ga-ti-to-tuyoteperdió.” Now, if only we could decipher what Benito’s whispering in the background … —J.J.A.

A nostalgic trap single that makes anyone with a heartbeat miss their high school sweetheart, “Dime Si Te Acuerdas” introduced listeners to a side of Bad Bunny they’d eventually know well: the wunderkind superstar who misses the simple life before worldwide fame robbed him of what he holds dearest. The track, produced by Floor 6, Hydro, and Alex Killer, closed his chapter of trap singles with the label Hear This Music, and ended the heavy reverb and ad-libs that defined his first era before he disappeared for months to focus on his mental health. In hindsight, the clues were all there. — F.S.S.

Bad Bunny knew that after YHLQMDLG, he had the right to brag about everything he’d accomplished — and did he ever. “Hoy Cobré” is a championship parade where he gloats about his success and throws shade at his naysayers (even, allegedly, some fellow artists who go unnamed). He walks a tricky tightrope: It’s hard to be smug without coming across obnoxious, but Benito has too much innate charisma. In the end, we get a song that even fans can use to stunt when the time and money is right. —J.J.A.

The second single from El Último Tour Del Mundo is a sweeping, thrashing statement of musical and personal freedom, fusing Latin trap beats with a slick, surprising arena-emo melody. Bad Bunny sings about dressing how he likes and doing what he wants. But the song’s bruised grandeur also hints at the aloneness that often comes with testing your individuality in a judgmental world, giving a heroically cocky anthem a more universal sense of empathy. —J.D.

Bad Bunny took the memorable chorus from Kartier’s 2008 hit “Si Te Vas” and interpolated it into this angry perreo ballad, on which he goes scorched earth about a relationship that has been irredeemably broken. The song is more than just an outpouring of resentment and spite: It succeeds because, like all great heartbreak songs, Bad Bunny communicates genuine pain and frustration in the lyrics. Plus, his shouts of “Vete!” are so catchy that they make any listener want to let out all of their own grievances alongside him. —J.J.A.

Nearly four years after “La Romana,” Bad Bunny made his solo return to Dominican dembow on this lighthearted playboy anthem for the ages. The track reaches back in time, sampling OG romancer and bachata legend Anthony Santos, before Bad Bunny’s tales of never-ending novias play out in a fusion of trap and dembow. While he missed an opportunity to collaborate with another dembowsero from the D.R., Bad Bunny proves he’s committed to his relationship with the genre — and its community. —J.B.

During his current tour, Bad Bunny performs a medley of the early hits that made up the Trap Bunny era. It’s easy to see why “Caile” is a cornerstone of that period: The track proves that Benito’s songs back then weren’t just a flash in the pan; they were bonafide earworms that established his musicality and demonstrated why established artists were eager to collaborate with the new kid on the block. He’s unafraid to lean into the track’s more lurid material, gleefully showcasing the genre’s Dionysian side. —J.J.A.

Bad Bunny established himself as a formidable MC through this breakthrough banger, built on a sample of the classic hit “Esta Noche de Travesura.” The past meets present on the trap en español track, which features vocals from Héctor “El Father“ and showcases Bad Bunny’s knack for delivering double entendres in the deepest of bass pockets. In the accompanying video, Bad Bunny introduced the vibrant fashion that loyalists love about him, all while paying homage to the legends and influential lyricists that came before him. —B.A.

“Andrea,” a collaboration with indie-pop duo Buscabulla, has become a rallying cry against femicides and violence against women. Though some thought the song was inspired by the death of Andrea Ruiz, Bad Bunny has said he wrote the lyrics — which are some of his best — about someone who is alive and who wants to be free. Luis Alfredo Del Valle and Raquel Berrios bring power to the track, adding a distorted disco break and Berrios’ alluring vocals, which give voice to women who know they deserve it all. —E.R.P.

Bad Bunny was raised on sazón, batería, y reggaeton, and he’s proven again and again that he has the utmost respect for those who paved the way for him in the genre. That’s why his team-up with perreo vanguard Yaviah got so much respect from those familiar with the OG’s inimitable voice. “Bichiyal,” a major moment on YHLQMDLG, not only stuck the landing with its off-kilter Nesty beat, but it also added a new word to the lexicon that sparked several conversations about class and gender. —J.J.A.

There’s a point in “Ni Bien Ni Mal” when it feels like the whole song has fallen apart. The ukulele upbeats and sub basses have vanished. What’s left are honks and crashes and Bad Bunny mourning, almost half-crying. By the time the beat kicks back in, and Benito unfurls out of his lyrical fetal position, you’re cheering for him to get up, to get over whoever hurt him so bad to make him say this: Sin ti no me va bien, tampoco me va mal / Pase lo que pase no te voy a llamar // Without you, I’m doing neither good nor bad / Whatever happens, I won’t call you. Stay strong, Benito. We got you. —N.S.

Bad Bunny and the Colombian electronic duo Bomba Estéreo made magic when they decided to team up for this glowing highlight on Un Verano Sin Ti. Li Saumet’s distinctive vocals blend seamlessly with Bad Bunny’s baritone, and the rhythmic second verse she delivers, full of swag and grace, is the most compelling moment in a song as alluring as the promise of summer. The track has become a critical hit, breaking Spotify records and securing a nomination for Record of the Year at the 23rd annual Latin Grammys. —J.L.

“Krippy Kush” doesn’t need much to pop: producer Rvssian and Bad Bunny meticulously weave a couple of wisecracking raps, a spartan beat, and an unrelenting hook. The track illustrates Benito’s early affinity for pop-leaning, crowd-pleasing trap hits, and those high-pitched squeals of “kush kush kush” are just too addictive to resist singing along. His entry into the weed-rap canon, it’s simple, potent, and effective, just like a well-packed one-hitter. —I.H.

Bad Bunny is tormented by the past on this aching trap ballad from X100pre — a raw and beautifully produced moment on the album. He opens the song by remembering an old relationship and delivering one of his most genuine, heart-searing verses: “Por ti doy la vida/Soy tuyo de por vida.” As the beat speeds up, he realizes the old days are gone, and his voice practically cracks as he admits that nothing is like it used to be anymore. —J.L.

“Yonaguni,” a laid-back chart topper that Bad Bunny released between albums, is another example of how well he knows how to communicate heartache and isolation. The music video, shot in Japan, shows a contemplative Bad Bunny as he moves through his day alone, trying to get over someone he used to care about. In the lyrics, he promises he’ll fly to Yonaguni to see that person again — and in a surprise twist, he ends the song with an outro in Japanese.  —J.L.

It’s the one that started it all. “Diles” began as a SoundCloud upload from a young grocery bagger from Vega Baja, and it was so striking that it caught the ear of DJ Luian. He saw endless promise in the song and invited several genre vets to hop on it. It’s easy to understand why they did: The chorus is as catchy as they come, and although Benito hadn’t fully refined his vocal skills, he still commanded the track with his salacious delivery, setting the tone for everyone else. —J.J.A.

Bad Bunny and J Balvin’s joint album Oasis nearly broke the internet, and many fans flocked to this sentimental moment, which finds the two megastars trading stories about past loves. A drowsy, muted trumpet line floats in and out of the thumping midtempo track like a faded yet persistent memory, courtesy of Tainy’s sharp production. Though both artists reminisce about old days of drunken dancing and unbridled lust, Bad Bunny’s outlook, which is more focused on leaving the past behind, is ultimately what punches up the track. —M.J.

Tainy had been sitting on an early version of “’Dákiti” for years before the producer turned solo star Jhay Cortez discovered the snaking beat and began tinkering around with it, adding melodies and a spare kick drum. Before long, he, Bad Bunny, Mora, and Tainy had joined forces over the spangling, electro-fused blend of house and reggaeton. And once they were done, the track shot up the charts and became a viral hit that predicted the genre’s omnidirectional future. —J.L.

El Conejo Malo puts his heart on his sleeve and dives deep into themes of love and longing on this earnest torch song. Scaffolded by a sparse piano melody and a single verse where he lets everything off his chest, “Amorfoda” was one of the first times fans saw Bad Bunny get really into his feelings. Later songs and interviews would reveal the full extent of Benito’s soft heart, but here he pulls off a full sadboi overture without losing a drop of his self-assured attitude. —J.J.A.