Discover the poetic beauty in ‘Kyrie’ by 88GLAM. This lyric breakdown takes you on a journey through the artist’s thoughts, emotions, and the story they aim to tell. From clever metaphors to evocative imagery, we delve into the nuances that make this song a lyrical masterpiece. Whether you’re a fan of 88GLAM or a lover of well-crafted words, our detailed analysis will give you a deeper understanding and appreciation of this song.
Rollie, ‘Rari, wrist
‘Rari, Rollie, switch
Sauce ’em up like Kyrie, yeah
Rollie, ‘Rari, wrist
‘Rari, Rollie, switch
Guacamole Lambo with the artichoke dip
Rollie, ‘Rari, wrist (Rollie, ‘Rari, wrist)
‘Rari, Rollie, switch’ (‘Rari, Rollie, switch)
Guacamole Lambo, yeah
Sauce ’em up like Kyrie, yeah
These days I been dead, got no feelings
Left behind my ex, movin’ forward, drop the ceiling
Foreign going skrrt, diamond choker, got no freedom
I don’t want no love, do ’em dirty, I mislead em (woo)
Tracking shipment on my purchase, copped a Rollie (copped the Rollie)
Did that cause I made a hundred on my lonely (woo)
If I ain’t sitting in a foreign, I get cold feet
Shit on niggas that would ever lil’ bro me
Who knew that gettin’ money, sitting in the fast lane
Could make a ho go switch it up to get that last name
Twenty racks in money counter, look like fast frame
Rich forever, Glam Boy be thinking past fame
Buy a bitch Chanel, brand new pair of heels
Just so she could shit all on my ex, she kiss and tell
Poppin’ all these pills, I been on a thrill
Double cup gon’ hold me up, I pray that I don’t spill
I drown away in all my ice, my neck a glacier
I don’t stress, I take a trip, don’t got no neighbors
All my enemies come back and ask for favors
And all my ex’s come around when they see paper
Sauce ’em up like Kyrie, yeah
Rollie, ‘Rari, wrist
‘Rari, Rollie, switch
Guacamole Lambo with the artichoke dip (Rollie, ‘Rari, wrist)
Rollie, ‘Rari, wrist (‘Rari, Rollie, switch)
‘Rari, Rollie, switch
Guacamole Lambo, yeah
Sauce ’em up like Kyrie, yeah
These days I been dead, got no feelings
Left behind my ex, movin’ forward, drop the ceiling
Foreign going skrrt, diamond choker, got no freedom
I don’t want no love, do ’em dirty, I mislead em (woo)
Yeah, you talk about your block like it’s popping there
Yeah, you talk about that block, but you’re not from there
Yeah, you talk about your block like it’s popping there
Yeah, you talk about that block, but you’re not from there
I’m on your block like papa bear
You got Harleys, but no choppers there
I’m a block boy, you’re an opp boy
I’m a hot boy, I’m a hot boy
I got the codeine cases (yeah)
You thought that this star faded (yeah)
Diamond ring is a spaceship (yeah)
The Maybach back spacious (yeah)
She keep poppin’ for your highness (yeah)
It’s not me reacting, it’s my sinus
Roll up on you like dices
Ass back off the bike is
Why the future looks brightest
Start sprinkling spices
Test me, I might bite it
I been on my Mike Tyson
Jetski on ice, with the Gretzky slice
Sauce ’em up like Kyrie, yeah
Rollie, ‘Rari, wrist
‘Rari, Rollie, switch
Guacamole Lambo with the artichoke dip
Rollie, ‘Rari, wrist (Rollie, ‘Rari, wrist)
‘Rari, Rollie, switch’ (‘Rari, Rollie, switch)
Guacamole Lambo, yeah
Sauce ’em up like Kyrie, yeah
These days I been dead, got no feelings
Left behind my ex, movin’ forward, drop the ceiling
Foreign going skrrt, diamond choker, got no freedom
I don’t want no love, do ’em dirty, I mislead em