
Stick Talk Flow Tobe Nwigwe
On this page, discover the full lyrics of the song "Stick Talk Flow" by Tobe Nwigwe. Lyrxo.com offers the most comprehensive and accurate lyrics, helping you connect with the music you love on a deeper level. Ideal for dedicated fans and anyone who appreciates quality music.

[Intro]
Yeah
Haha
Uh, my name is Tobe
And I can rap really good
I'm 'bout to start snappin' on each and every single beat that I hear that I like
[Verse]
Two things off top, that I pray a lot, but I'm down to box
Fifth grade I had a Magnavox, jammed a lot of Biggie and a lot of Pac
Lot of homies passed on the block
Nowadays they be packin' Glocks
I don't blame 'em, if you see the cops
You gon' raise your hands, you could still get shot
Look, but that ain't my mission
Give you the game for free, you just got to pay attention
My raps get a blunt vision, this ain't for no recognition
Look, my partnas still in the kitchen tryin' to get a pot to piss in
Boy, I used to hit the Ricky Bobby like I was in New Edition
Yeah, yeah, yeah, now I just rap
I get on every single track and snap
Shoutout to Austin for pickin' the track
What's up, Big Josh? Got the SWAT on my back
Shoutout to Moya, shoutout to Seeny
I'm off the cake and the cream like a Twinkie
Momma need jewelry all over her pinky
She got to shine for the times I was down
She got to shine for the times I was broke
She got to shine for the time that the movement was movin'
And thought that the moves was a joke
Switch my approach, change my demeanor
Then I got cash to pay off misdemeanors
Then Houston Magazine made 'em believers
My flow is a blessing, boy, call in the reaper
It's dead, bow
Yeah
Haha
Uh, my name is Tobe
And I can rap really good
I'm 'bout to start snappin' on each and every single beat that I hear that I like
[Verse]
Two things off top, that I pray a lot, but I'm down to box
Fifth grade I had a Magnavox, jammed a lot of Biggie and a lot of Pac
Lot of homies passed on the block
Nowadays they be packin' Glocks
I don't blame 'em, if you see the cops
You gon' raise your hands, you could still get shot
Look, but that ain't my mission
Give you the game for free, you just got to pay attention
My raps get a blunt vision, this ain't for no recognition
Look, my partnas still in the kitchen tryin' to get a pot to piss in
Boy, I used to hit the Ricky Bobby like I was in New Edition
Yeah, yeah, yeah, now I just rap
I get on every single track and snap
Shoutout to Austin for pickin' the track
What's up, Big Josh? Got the SWAT on my back
Shoutout to Moya, shoutout to Seeny
I'm off the cake and the cream like a Twinkie
Momma need jewelry all over her pinky
She got to shine for the times I was down
She got to shine for the times I was broke
She got to shine for the time that the movement was movin'
And thought that the moves was a joke
Switch my approach, change my demeanor
Then I got cash to pay off misdemeanors
Then Houston Magazine made 'em believers
My flow is a blessing, boy, call in the reaper
It's dead, bow
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