Although Bad Bunny’s ascent to fame has been nothing short of spectacular, his legal troubles now serve as a reminder of how artistic innovation and personal history can clash in ways that are remarkably similar to other celebrity sagas that have shaped cultural discussions. Two lawsuits are currently pending against him: one from his ex-girlfriend, who is requesting $40 million for the unapproved use of her voice, and another from an elderly Puerto Rican homeowner, who is requesting $1 million for the use of his home’s image as the focal point of Bad Bunny’s residency shows. When taken as a whole, these examples tell a story in which creativity and responsibility coexist and where dignity and privacy clash with the forces of celebrity.
Table: Bad Bunny Biography and Career
| Category | Details |
|---|---|
| Full Name | Benito Antonio Martínez Ocasio |
| Stage Name | Bad Bunny |
| Date of Birth | March 10, 1994 |
| Birthplace | Vega Baja, Puerto Rico |
| Nationality | Puerto Rican |
| Profession | Singer, Rapper, Songwriter, Actor |
| Genres | Latin Trap, Reggaeton, Urbano, Pop |
| Notable Albums | X 100pre (2018), YHLQMDLG (2020), Un Verano Sin Ti (2022) |
| Awards | Multiple Grammys, Latin Grammys, Billboard Awards |
| Settlement Reference | BBC Entertainment Report |

The most personal aspect of this story is encapsulated in the lawsuit involving Carliz De La Cruz Hernández. Bad Bunny asked his girlfriend to record herself saying, “Bad Bunny, baby,” in 2015, long before his shows sold out stadiums and streaming giants named him their most-played artist. She did as she was told, withdrawing to a friend’s bathroom for some peace and quiet, recording several versions, and sending them via voice notes. His brand’s audio fingerprint was created by that loving gesture, which was done while they were both still employed at supermarkets.
Years later, her voice could be heard in the 2017 single Pa Ti and the 2022 hit song Dos Mil 16 in addition to early SoundCloud tracks. Her words became ingrained in popular culture as both songs received hundreds of millions of plays on YouTube and Spotify. She allegedly turned down a $2,000 offer for rights from representatives shortly before Un Verano Sin Ti launched. Nevertheless, the album went on sale and received numerous Grammy nominations, but De La Cruz faced abuse from admirers who acknowledged her role. She claims in her lawsuit that the incident left her feeling overburdened, nervous, and in need of counseling, characterizing the impact as intensely personal.
The most striking aspect of this dispute is how something so insignificant—a quick recording made into a phone—became incredibly valuable. The case seems strikingly similar to the controversies surrounding Beyoncé’s previous sampling scandals or Robin Thicke’s Blurred Lines, where underpaid or uncredited contributions turned into rights battlegrounds. It also brings to mind tales from the early days of hip-hop, when careers were launched by sampled beats, but the original artists had to fight for recognition. The emotional and financial stakes in De La Cruz’s lawsuit are equally significant, turning what might have been written off as a contractual error into a dispute over dignity and respect.
Another level of complexity is revealed by the second lawsuit, which was brought by Román Carrasco Delgado. The iconic stage design for Bad Bunny’s 2025 residency shows, “La Casita,” was inspired by his humble, salmon-colored home in Humacao. Superstars like LeBron James and Penélope Cruz performed alongside Bad Bunny at the José Miguel Agrelot Coliseum, where the structure was recreated. Every day, fans descended on Carrasco’s actual porch to take pictures, upload videos, and invade his privacy. Despite his incapacity to read or write, he alleges in his lawsuit that he never provided meaningful consent and that contracts were manipulated using his digital signature.
A poignant layer is added by Carrasco’s account of building the house with his father and brother, brick by brick, motivated by his wife’s desire to go back home. Surrounded by cameras and rumors, what was once a private haven has now turned into a public landmark. He is now pursuing damages for both illicit enrichment and emotional distress. With Bad Bunny’s enormous influence, the story has echoes of the Breaking Bad homeowners who put up with years of tourists hurling pizzas onto their roof. It also strikes a chord with discussions of artistic borrowing and cultural appropriation, in which one’s own legacy is turned into entertainment without providing the full benefits to its original owners.
The Bad Bunny himself has said very little. In his public remarks, he highlights his artistic abilities and the outstanding achievements of his projects, but he stays away from discussing the legal narratives directly. Tension is increased by the contrast between his spectacular performances—whether they electrify stadiums or captivate Grammy audiences—and his silence regarding lawsuits. The image of the genuine, everyday reggaeton star and the legal image of someone who is accused of taking advantage of those closest to him cause dissonance for fans.
Puerto Rico is not the only place where these cases occur. They address more general social issues, such as how celebrity and personal history should coexist and how much recognition should be given to those unseen efforts. For example, the De La Cruz lawsuit emphasizes the importance of small-scale musical contributions. Similar to how a drumbeat sample once changed entire genres, a two-second phrase can become extremely valuable. Carrasco’s case raises concerns about the appropriate compensation for a community or individual when their personal property becomes a worldwide symbol.
These disagreements are also infused with a sense of cultural reckoning. Bad Bunny, who frequently talks about Puerto Rican justice and pride, is currently facing accusations that go against his public persona. De La Cruz’s legal battle is about claiming her voice as her own. For Carrasco, it’s about finding tranquility in his later years. Their tales follow a well-known trend observed in the cases of other celebrities: whether it was Michael Jackson’s catalog conflicts or Kanye West’s recurring court cases, the more prominent a person becomes, the more complicated the issues surrounding accountability get.
Nevertheless, this story still has a hopeful undertone. The music industry may be compelled by these lawsuits to establish noticeably higher standards for acknowledging contributors, paying collaborators, and honoring private spaces. They might also encourage fans to reevaluate their role, realizing that celebrities are the result of teamwork rather than individual success. The cases remind young artists that protecting their rights and honoring their boundaries are just as important as having catchy hooks and viral dances.

