$20 Million Song Heist: Young Miami Drags Tyla to Court, Alleging Massive Copyright Betrayal Over ‘Chanel’ Single

In a sudden, seismic shockwave that has rippled through the global music industry, hip-hop artist Young Miami—Karishia Brownley—has launched a monumental $20 million copyright infringement lawsuit against rising international superstar Tyla. The highly publicized legal filing, which includes accusations of unjust enrichment and emotional distress, centers on a devastating claim: that Tyla’s highly anticipated new single, “Chanel,” is a brazen theft of protected elements from Miami’s unreleased track, “Take Me to Chanel.”

This is not a quiet industry dispute; it is an emotionally charged, high-stakes battle being waged in the courts and across social media, instantly setting the stage for what could become one of the most career-defining legal conflicts of the decade. The situation exploded when Young Miami took to X, formerly Twitter, to post a cryptic but loaded message: “Take me to Chanel is greater than Put Me in Chanel.” This initial shade was quickly followed by a series of posts that were far more aggressive, accusing an unnamed artist of grand-scale creative larceny: “This girl really ran off with my song and I don’t know how to feel about it. Mind you, I played this song for this girl.”

Within hours, TMZ confirmed that the “certain girl” at the center of the storm was indeed Tyla, the Grammy-winning South African pop star, who had just been teasing a new single featuring the lyric “say you love me then put me Chanel.” The timing, the nearly identical lyrical focus, and the dramatic nature of the accusation have captivated the public, but the legal documents now filed in Los Angeles Superior Court reveal a much deeper, more technical story of alleged betrayal.

The Timeline of Alleged Theft: A Casual Session Gone Wrong

The foundation of Miami’s claim lies in a single, casual meeting. According to the lawsuit, Miami privately shared her unreleased demo for “Take Me to Chanel” with Tyla months ago while the two were both in Los Angeles for BET Awards weekend in 2024. The session was reportedly organized by a mutual producer, whose name remains undisclosed, and saw Miami play the unfinished track for Tyla.

For Miami, this track was slated to be a pivotal moment in her solo career. She had been building anticipation, telling fans on X that “Take Me to Chanel” would be “the bad anthem of 2025,” an assertion she reiterated later. For her, the sudden appearance of a strikingly similar track from an artist with whom she shared a private moment of creative vulnerability feels like a direct sabotage of months of work and planning. Miami’s lawyers argue that Tyla heard the distinctive hook during that studio session and subsequently recreated it, utilizing only minor melodic shifts—a common practice in pop music that, when tied to an unreleased copyrighted composition, unequivocally crosses a legal boundary.

The Digital Paper Trail: Proving Prior Ownership

While social media was immediately split—with some critics dismissing Miami’s claims as a “reach” or a publicity stunt—the legal documentation tells a compellingly technical story. Filed in Los Angeles, the complaint asserts that Miami’s composition significantly predates Tyla’s track by over seven months. The crucial evidence cited comes from metadata associated with the studio files. Miami’s team allegedly possesses studio files, stored in ProTools Cloud, dated March 4th, 2025, which they claim constitutes prima facie evidence of ownership.

To further solidify the claim, an attached affidavit reportedly includes snippets of the original demo’s hook: “Take me to Chanel, buy me what I like, put me in Chanel when you send your tight.” This phrase structure and theme bear a striking resemblance to the chorus heard in Tyla’s teaser: “Say you love me then put me Chanel, you know what I like.”

A team of musicologists hired by Miami’s legal counsel have reportedly analyzed both tracks, generating what the complaint suggests is definitive proof of infringement. They allegedly concluded that the two songs share a staggering 68% lyrical overlap and an identical cadence pattern in the hook, which they deem sufficient to warrant a full trial. Furthermore, the analysis points to the beat structure, which allegedly shows a nearly identical BPM and key signature—a signature that, intriguingly, matches that of a South African producer Tyla frequently works with. These technical overlaps form the bedrock of the lawsuit, moving the conversation from mere online speculation to a serious, documented legal challenge.

Tyla’s Counter-Strategy: Challenging Jurisdiction

The implications of the lawsuit are massive, seeking $20 million in damages. Miami’s team argues this figure reflects the commercial benefit Tyla’s label has gained through early streaming projections and crucial brand partnerships with luxury brands like Chanel—partnerships that Miami claims would have rightfully gone to her had her single dropped first.

Tyla’s camp, while issuing no formal public statement, has not been idle. Sources close to the singer reportedly view the case as “frivolous and opportunistic.” Before the lawsuit became public, a cease and desist letter was allegedly sent to Miami, warning her to stop making “defamatory innuendo and unverified claims of theft.”

The core of Tyla’s defense, according to legal sources, will be to challenge the jurisdiction itself. Her lawyers plan to argue that the alleged shared studio session occurred in a private Airbnb, not a formal commercial studio, and critically, that no formal contract or binding Non-Disclosure Agreement (NDA) was in place. If a judge agrees, the case could be dismissed from the US court system or moved to a protracted international copyright tribunal—a process that could take years and effectively dissolve Miami’s immediate leverage.

This battle over the venue is where the case truly becomes interesting, as Miami’s team is now aggressively pushing for discovery access to Tyla’s raw studio project files, session stems, and metadata. If granted, this could definitively reveal which composition was created first. If denied, Miami’s case will rely entirely on her own ProTools files and any correspondence threads proving the exchange, significantly raising the legal difficulty.

High Stakes and Industry Precedent

The controversy has generated intense media coverage, with headlines declaring the “Battle of Best Chanels.” While some industry observers suggest Miami may be using the lawsuit for publicity ahead of her own solo rollout, legal analysts agree that if she possesses documented studio sessions and digital time stamps proving prior creation, the case has substantial merit, making it a very serious challenge.

For Tyla, the legal storm could significantly stall her hard-won momentum. Her team is rightly concerned that litigation could jeopardize major brand partnerships, such as those with Pandora and Coca-Cola, especially if court papers continue to mention the “commercial exploitation of stolen work.” Despite the immense pressure, Tyla has maintained a remarkably poised public persona, avoiding direct confrontation and instead doubling down on promotion, confirming her single’s planned October 24th release with a short, classy clapback caption.

Meanwhile, Miami’s team is actively filing for a temporary restraining order (TRO) to halt the song’s promotion until the matter of ownership is decided. If a judge grants the TRO, Tyla’s release could be blocked in the crucial US market, even if the track streams globally.

More broadly, industry executives are nervously watching the case, recognizing that it sets a powerful precedent for how unfinished music is shared in casual studio environments. As one insider allegedly noted, “Nobody’s going to play demos for anybody after this,” cementing a new level of caution and requiring formal NDAs for even the most informal creative exchanges.

Most copyright cases of this magnitude are resolved through private settlements, and analysts believe the $20 million figure is a “strategic negotiation anchor,” designed to push the final settlement towards a meaningful figure, perhaps $1–$2 million, along with joint co-writing credits.

If Miami wins, she will emerge as a defining symbol for independent artists standing up to major labels and global acts, elevating her credibility beyond her City Girls work. If she loses, critics are ready to frame the event as a failed, desperate publicity stunt. Regardless of the outcome, the world is watching, and this trial will irrevocably change the dynamic of how music travels between US and international artists, proving that even in the age of fast-moving collaborations, the paperwork—and the proof—is everything.