Hasta Que Me Muera

Bryant Myers brings a hushed, almost confessional intimacy to this track, wrapping his delivery in the kind of late-night trap production that feels like driving alone with the windows down. The beat sits low and unhurried — 808s that pulse like a slow heartbeat, layered with delicate melodic fragments that never quite resolve into brightness. There's a melancholy undercurrent running through the whole thing, the kind of ache that doesn't announce itself but settles in your chest. His vocal tone is soft and slightly nasal, leaning into a melodic flow that blurs the line between singing and rapping, a signature of the Puerto Rican trap diaspora. The lyrics circle around devotion that stretches beyond ordinary limits — a love so consuming it becomes almost fatalistic. This is a song for someone who has loved recklessly and knows it. It belongs to the early-morning hours after a party has emptied out, or to a long drive where the silence between two people says more than words. Myers represents a generation of Latinx artists who fused trap's moodiness with the emotional directness of reggaetón, and this track is a clean example of that synthesis — unshowy, genuinely felt, built for replay.