The 50 Best Rauw Alejandro Songs

Included in Gomez’s Revelación EP, “Baila Conmigo” conjures up a honeyed mid-tempo groove, with both singers proposing the act of dancing as a viable language, a cure for post-pandemic isolation. The plucked electric guitar line flirts with pop-rock — Rauw at his most accessible. The visual, shot in Brazil, is gorgeous and atmospheric.

The sex inside the Kia was so much fun — her back leaning against the steering wheel. But the affair was short lived, like a tryst at a motel, and now the question remains: Is it too late to go back? There’s genuine emotion in these lyrics of erotic regret, but the high point of “Estadía” is the day-and-night antithesis between Omy de Oro’s deep-toned rapping and Rauw’s passionate singing.

In Spanish, problemón is a big problem, and papelón, a huge embarrassment. There is humor in both terms — using these words to describe personal woes implies a modicum of irony. A duet with Puerto Rican rapper Álvaro Díaz — and the most successful track off his ambitious concept album Felicilandia — “Problemón” benefits from the linguistic nuances in the chorus. There is levity to this tale of a woman who lied about being single — now her boyfriend loiters outside as the protagonists forget themselves to the beat of reggaetón. 

Once you get past the unintentionally hilarious opening line (“She lives life like a tango”), “Cambia El Paso” is decent urbano-pop, and it’s easy to understand why Rauw asked to participate when he listened to the demo. Turns out he becomes the track’s saving grace — his inimitable style adds urgency and gravitas.

The remix of Jey Blessing’s “Suave” vibrates whimsically, embedded on a keyboard loop that echoes the sounds of vibes, or bells — like a distant childhood dream. The lyrics are more complex, detailing the singer’s sudden disappointment after his love interest demands to take things easy. Jey’s rap segment delves into explicit sex, but Rauw’s final chorus swiftly returns to an idealized mode.

Rauw’s debut album, Afrodisíaco, gave him the chance to work with childhood friend and former classmate Anuel AA on this hard-hitting reggaetón. At times, the lyrics veer into existentialism. “If you were death itself, baby, I’d love to die,” growls Anuel, whereas Rauw pines for all the love that remains unmade — simply because the clock doesn’t hold enough hours in it for so much lust. Fittingly, the video was shot at a strip club.

Eclectic to the core, Parte de Mí, the sophomore effort by Argentine R&B star Nicki Nicole, included collaborations with boyfriend Trueno, Mon Laferte, and others. Recorded in Miami, this duet with Rauw underscores his willingness to adjust to another artist’s comfort zone. It’s a Nicki track throughout, and he spices it up with a rapid-fire segment. The video offers subtle reminders of his dancing prowess.

If you harbor any doubts about Rauw’s ascent to stardom being anything but meteoric, check out the no-budget video for this 2017 cut — his debut single — and marvel at how fully developed his study-in-high-contrasts style (hardcore lyrics, mellifluous vocals) was at this point. The virtuoso touches would arrive later, but the foundation was all Rauw, from the very beginning.

Yet another instance where Rauw steals the spotlight, adding tension and adrenaline to a hit that would remain middle of the road if not for the fiery inspiration of his verses. There’s a clever touch of progressive politics courtesy of Myke Towers (“she says she’s free like Venezuela and Cuba”), and Turizo’s gravelly chorus is compelling.

Produced by Jamaican helmer Rvssian, “Nostálgico” hints at the sonic bliss that results whenever the singer ventures outside la isla del encanto to explore the rhythms of the non-Spanish speaking Caribbean. An organic fusion of reggaetón and dancehall, “Nostálgico” echoes the profound imprint of Jamaica in its DNA.

The one where they rhyme pussy with juicy. The “Jangueo” star is a good match for Rauw in terms of vocal pitch and sensibility. This is a song about desire, about everything that could be but still isn’t, ripe with references to sangría and homemade porn.

Like Rauw himself, Argentine trap queen Cazzu emerged from the urbano field and quickly subverted genre confines with the irrepressible force of her vision. Even though Lyanno and Dalex are present, the track sizzles only whenever Rauw or Cazzu take the lead.

There’s an implicit sonic brotherhood that unites Colombian urbano-pop duo Cali y El Dandee with Rauw’s penchant for nostalgia-hued sweetness. His verse, regretting the departure of a girl who simply cannot be forgotten, is all yearning and acceptance. The rhymes in the Spanglish chorus (sunrise/ice/goodbye) are obvious but fun.

Originally part of pioneering reggaetón duo Arcángel & De La Ghetto, NYC native De La Ghetto had already collaborated with Rauw on the 2020 hit “Suave Rico.” Rauw listened to “Loco Por Perrearte” while they were on tour together and asked to be included in this no-frills remix. Notice the sly reference to Rosalía’s Motomami on the first verse.

Oh, the thrill of waking up in a stranger’s bed. Rauw sounds exultant in this kinetic collaboration — Brray’s wordplay on the third verse is priceless. The voice of Rosalía can be heard in the chorus, and the sampled female exclaiming “ay, ‘toy bien loca con la nota en high” adds to the orgiastic vibe. Visual shows plenty of out-of-control perreo at an overcrowded house party. A literary salon this definitely is not.

From Brytiago’s debut album, Orgánico. Vocally, Rauw’s first verse finds him at his most acrobatic, even if the lyrics are a tad clunky (“I enjoy her just like I do when I’m spending cash”). The transitions between trap twilight and reggaetón brio are seamless.

Rauw leads with the opening verse on a Latin star conclave that is truly democratic. There’s a low-key, holiday-in-the-tropics harmony in the way Rauw and Maluma trade verses, and the chorus by Colombian/Venezuelan singer Beéle soothes the spirit. Awesome dance moves in the visual.

Rauw’s unflagging lust found its female counterpart in a singing powerhouse from Colombia. The smoky-voiced Oliva was once part of Irie Kingz with her brother, then released a debut solo album in 2022. “Na’ De Ti” is from Rauw’s experimental 2019 release, Trap Cake, Vol. 1, and both performers are quick to clarify that their furious coupling seeks to vent out a simple urge — there’s no hope for romance. “Kissing each other, lying to each other,” she croons, as the rhythm skids and fidgets with the ominous resolve of old-school drum-and-bass.

Daddy Yankee was 46 when he retired in style with the opulent LEGENDADDY, his seventh and last album. “Agua” stemmed from the “Gasolina” pioneer’s desire to record an Eighties-influenced tune, and the end result is filled with rewarding twists and turns, courtesy of Rauw and the unmistakable guitar of funk god Nile Rodgers. Rauw and Yankee try a basic dance step together on the video, and the same air of goofy camaraderie permeates this wholesome disco-pop jam — stirred only by Yankee’s burst of rapping in the middle.

The second track off Afrodisíaco, “Strawberry Kiwi” was produced by the singer with Medellín visionary and Berklee College of Music alum Sky Rompiendo. Rauw’s singular style is fully formed here — the summery, tropical atmosphere evokes the butterflies-in-your stomach giddiness of a teen crush.

True to its boricua roots, Brray’s “Te Pue’ Cuidar” — from his second album, Err Bambini — takes off with a synthesized Afro-Caribbean melody that could very well be the piano tumbao in a salsa orchestra. It gives way to an electro beat and a busy bass line, but the arrangement collapses halfway through the song into a moody, minimalistic bridge. Enter Rauw’s verse, and this unpredictable gem jumps into straight-ahead reggaetón. 

There’s Rauw the charismatic pop star, and there’s Rauw the introspective music maker. It is this second facet — occasionally hidden from mainstream view — that makes the former shine even brighter. A wonderfully eccentric mini-album, Trap Cake, Vol. 2 feels like a collection of apocryphal B sides. “Museo” is fragile and ethereal, a welcome moment of urbano-ambient, frozen in time.

It is the contrast between vieja escuela reggaetón grit and Rauw’s glossy futurism that turns this collaboration into such a satisfying experience. Wisin’s brusque rhyming on the second verse harks back to the golden era of Wisin & Yandel perreo. Extra points for featuring the word acicálate — an obsolete, Arabic rooted term for dressing up.

Going against type, Rauw is not surrounded by a battalion of beauties on the visual for “2/Catorce.” He stands alone, on top of a cliff overlooking the icy city below, and his declaration of intent — getting a woman’s clothes off, owning her every single body part — is more of a desperate lament, as if the weight of desire was too hefty a load for a such a young man to carry. The production by Mr. Naisgai is lovely, enveloping Rauw’s voice in gauzy synths and a nimble downbeat.

Born on the island of Bonaire to a Dominican mother, singer-songwriter Ir-Sais expanded the success of his original hit “Dream Girl” through this remix with Rauw and sultry downtempo underpinnings. The mixture of Spanish and Papiamento is eye-opening, and the spiraling electric piano in the coda is sheer sonic bliss.

Ozuna and Rauw follow parallel paths. The specificity of their styles goes beyond record-breaking numbers — it has chiseled the identity of Latin music during the past decade. The meeting of their creative personas is momentous, and “Luz Apagá” moves with the same relentless optimism and all-inclusive danceability that defines Ozuna’s global hits. Sharing the spotlight with Lunay and Lyanno, Rauw’s turn is not transformational this time, but adds airiness to this summer breeze of a song.

Erudite references to Tramadol and Passoã liqueur (Pornstar Martini, anyone?) abound on this airy Nío García reggaetón with Rauw and Lenny Tavárez, from García’s solitary album, Now or Never. The visual feels like leafing through a high school yearbook, with the trio improvising a choreography on the patio tiles outside the white suburban party house. Check out the remix with Myke Towers, Casper Mágico, and Darell.

Produced by Luny Tunes and included in Yandel’s now classic 2003 solo debut, Quién Contra Mí, the original version of “Dembow” sounds quaint compared to this funkier, steadfast, and lyrical 2020 revision with Rauw’s vocals upfront. Quién Contra Mí 2 featured guest spots by Rubén Blades, Snoop Dogg, and other luminaries, but this is the album’s strongest cut.

Ah, the innocent days of 2019, when Farruko was still shooting videos in villas by the sea, surrounded by long-legged models. At the time, “Fantasías” was one of the first collaborations where up-and-coming Rauw glittered under the spotlight, proving that he had as much charisma — if not more — as any high-profile reggaetonero. His romanticized crooning was already in place.

The one Vice Versa song that posits Rauw as musical globetrotter is, not coincidentally, the album’s closing track — implying, perhaps, that his palette will continue to expand. “Brasilera” is a jubilant take on funk carioca, the genre that emerged from Brazilian favelas and signified a turning point for the South American giant’s music culture. Anitta, the multilingual global star from Rio, is Rauw’s ideal partner in crime. Her dirty talk on the second half is loopy and irresistible.

Wunderkind producer Tainy is a unifying force, lending his vision to everyone from Rosalía and Bad Bunny to Ozuna and J Balvin. A track off his forthcoming Data project, “Sci-Fi” is probably the most avant-garde moment in Rauw’s output, a futuristic love song blessed with a propulsive bass line and a skittish synthesized sequence in the backdrop that flutters and aches. The cherry on top is Rauw’s impassioned performance, but pay attention to the wonderful, carnival-gone-made outro.

The remix of this poppy reggaetón features Kevvo, Lyanno, Bryant Myers, and Dalex, but the song works better as a duet showcasing Chencho’s manic delivery, juxtaposed with Rauw’s laid-back charm — including a reference to urbano godfather Tego Calderón. For Rauw, the endearing low-budget videos would soon become a thing of the past.

Like Rauw, Spanish pop star Lola Índigo is also a fantastic dancer. She plays lead flirt on this light-as-a-feather collab with Rauw and Colombian vocalist Lalo Ebratt, a popetón jam that gains strength thanks to the R&B gravel in the diva’s voice. The lyrics, about kissing on the floor and drinking tequila con limón, add to the languorous atmosphere of late-night revelry. 

It’s only the opening track of Afrodisíaco, but Rauw’s girlfriend has already dumped him for someone else. Now he demands that she tells the other guy a couple of things — and it’s a long list, baby. The beat is crisp, as compact and tight as reggaetón can be, but the real treat is in the bridge, with the angelic voice of Rosalía — like a cherub chanting in the skies — inspiring us all to spread our wings and take flight. “I was born alone, I die alone,” murmurs the power couple just as the song ends.

Perhaps because every sexual act is ephemeral by nature, there is a barely perceptible melancholy, a hint of sadness that permeates most of Rauw’s salacious narratives. “Sexo Virtual” is about every couple’s ongoing quest: overcoming distance, bringing the bodies together. The tension in the lyrics is released by Rauw’s forceful delivery. It was on Vice Versa that he found his true personality as a singer.

Wait, is that a hooky Latin synth-rock by Zoé or Belanova? No, it’s Rauw inventing new colors on Saturno, his upcoming — and experimental, perhaps? — third album. The reason why “Dime Quién????” stands as one of the year’s most exciting singles is that every single detail here brims with euphoria and audacity. Going beyond neo-urbano, Rauw’s next step is pan-Latin transcendence.

An endless gallery of songwriters and producers is listed on this track off Afrodisíaco, but the song is pure Rauw. This is the defining point where he weaves a personal language informed by trap and reggaetón, but is also nourished by warm childhood memories of Eighties pop. The spiraling synths and robotic beats tinkle with a fuzzy smile of their own.

He was in the process of making his first full-length album, but Rauw — never one to suffer in the self-confidence department — sounds perfectly at home next to J Balvin, who had already released his magnum opus Vibras in 2018. The contrast in their voices is spectacular, as they tackle the same addictive chorus and pre-chorus. Quotable line: “I call your body Picasso, because you’re art.”

Rauw the entertainer. He dances in front of the pyramids, the Eiffel Tower, a Caribbean beach — a young man of the world. He bends the reggaetón riddim to his will, turning it into pop spectacle, a good humored Afrodisíaco for fans of all ages. Resistance was futile, we now know.

There’s a whiff of bedroom-pop sensibility to this gorgeous track by Spanish singer-songwriter Marc Seguí. “Arguing with you is like a shootout, and I intend to die first” is the thread line of this romance-gone-south narrative boosted by the vulnerable vocalizing of Rauw and Pol Granch. The 4/4 beat and downtempo percussion bring Rauw dangerously close to rock-ballad territory. 

A detailed chronicle of self-proclaimed sexo salvaje — three days full on, and they still haven’t stopped — informs this ultra-smooth duet with the former Los Cangris rapper who moved to Medellín and then added a spoonful of pop sugar to his style. Back in 2019, the explicit endorsement of veterans such as Nicky solidified Rauw’s emerging star status.

Just like many of the Puerto Rican salsa standards that Rauw probably grew up listening to, much of his repertoire consists of alleged party songs that in effect float in a sea of minor-key chords. One of the most forlorn junctures of Afrodisíaco, “Ponte Pa’ Mí” finds Rauw venting his feelings together with pal Myke Towers — waiting for her phone call, anticipating a return that may never happen. More to the point: Who can possibly fall asleep when desire stings?

If there’s a lesson to be learned from Rauw’s dozens of collaborations, it would be the generosity of spirit with which he adapts his personal universe to the stylistic nuances of his guests. Colombia’s Camilo excels in silky bachatas and tender declarations of love, and he brings to this remix that same wide-eyed innocence, elevating the original version — off Afrodisíaco — to a higher level. This reading of “Tattoo” shows the ease with which Rauw could have triumphed in Latin pop, if he so desired.

It makes perfect sense that when Bad Bunny recorded a sprawling tropical manifesto of an album in 2022, he chose to collaborate with Rauw — his only equal in commercial and artistic stature. The resulting hit is bigger than the sum of its parts, from the swanky wah-wah disco intro and Elena Rose’s hypnotic sample to the spoken-word morality lesson at the end: “Everyone’s a saint when discussing other people’s sins.”

The healing in the title refers to a night of sex with a bodacious stranger as the surefire cure for a broken heart. But Rauw has also brought healing to the very genre where he now reigns supreme. Just when hard-hitting reggaetón had become numbingly monotonous, Vice Versa saved the day with organic guitar lines and delicately rendered beats. “Cúrame” embodies Rauw’s cosmopolitan smoothness. Here, his voice floats at the very center of the mix — as it should.

Reaching the mountaintop of the mainstream by yourself is not enough. You also need to engage with like-minded royalty in order to drive the point across. On “Te Felicito,” Rauw dances side by side with the Colombian queen of Latin polyrhythms herself — Shakira — assisting her in the noble mission of extracting musical revenge from a good-for-nothing, cheating ex. Even more impressive: Rauw is at no point overshadowed by Shaki on this intense fusion of heavy disco downbeats and reggaetón verve. Her vocals soar — as they always do — but so does Rauw, matching her bit by bit in intensity and glamour. Oh yes, the prince has finally arrived.

In strict sonic terms, this track off Trap Cake, Vol. 2 is one of Rauw’s most exquisite confections. The distorted electric guitar line in the beginning, followed by a furious syncopated beat, reveals what it would all sound like should rock become his genre of choice. The ominous rap section, spidery electro pulses, and a visual influenced by Asian noir add to the intrigue. The streaming numbers are anemic on this one, but there’s an overabundance of sweet details to cherish.

The Auto-Tuned falsetto does wonders on this lush Vice Versa track, Rauw’s second collaboration with Chencho. The former Plan B vocalist’s reckless diction is the perfect match for Rauw’s blue-tinted crooning in this story about a couple whose appetite for each other is so extreme, it quickly turns into despair. There is a hint of psychedelia in the arrangement, underscored by the visual; both artists are standing in a nightly garden populated by hallucinogenic flowers.

It was a matter of time before Rauw abandoned his current infatuation with stylized synth-pop and returned to the raucous reggaetón roots of his birthplace. Using the 1996 Baby Rasta & Gringo classic of the same name as a departure point, “Punto 40” enlists Baby Rasta for a brave, transformational remake that proves how much reggaetón has gained in artillery and finesse during the past decade. Mercilessly moving forward like a military march, this is one of Rauw’s most striking displays of his gift as an architect of sounds.

You knew that there was something off — or incredibly on, depending on your point of view — the moment the Latin mega-hit of 2021 began with an actual drummer counting down the beat. What followed was the understated revolution of the decade, a before-and-after moment as Rauw Alejandro decided to reinvent the urbano game with one single song and a simple recipe: a slick, hummable chorus and a loving nod to ‘80s New Wave. “Todo De Ti” is a Proustian madeleine of a song, but it is also a fresh new sunrise. Years from now, fans will probably remember Bad Bunny as the star who internationalized Latin music. And Rauw Alejandro as the artist who liberated it.