
Strength in Numbers The Likwit Junkies (Ft. Evidence & Phil Da Agony)
On this page, discover the full lyrics of the song "Strength in Numbers" by The Likwit Junkies (Ft. Evidence & Phil Da Agony). 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.

[Chorus]
Day by day
Every minute, every hour
We gon' come on strong
We gon' prove them wrong
[Verse 1: Phil da Agony]
Back with the wood, attackin' your hood
My niggas be misunderstood and up to no good
Hittin' these mics, late night, one of the sickest to write
I couldn't fuck, I think that bitch was a dyke
Say what I like, and I don't even write unless the beat got bite
I'm more than accurate when I spit it precise
Focused for life, settin' my pace
This is that Radio Raheem genre, love it or hate
I open my gates, chicks fallin' in, titties fallin' out
Like Janet Jackson, juggle the crates
Pull out a hit, talk shit
Pull out a zip, burn it down and hop in the whip
Put up your chilps, consumers gotta put up your chips
Stop burnin', bootleggin' our shit
Me and Herut been paying our dues
This ain't no, mischief shit that's out of the blue
[Scratched Redman Sample]
More than rough...we're calling your bluff...
And when it comes to rhymes...
Day by day
Every minute, every hour
We gon' come on strong
We gon' prove them wrong
[Verse 1: Phil da Agony]
Back with the wood, attackin' your hood
My niggas be misunderstood and up to no good
Hittin' these mics, late night, one of the sickest to write
I couldn't fuck, I think that bitch was a dyke
Say what I like, and I don't even write unless the beat got bite
I'm more than accurate when I spit it precise
Focused for life, settin' my pace
This is that Radio Raheem genre, love it or hate
I open my gates, chicks fallin' in, titties fallin' out
Like Janet Jackson, juggle the crates
Pull out a hit, talk shit
Pull out a zip, burn it down and hop in the whip
Put up your chilps, consumers gotta put up your chips
Stop burnin', bootleggin' our shit
Me and Herut been paying our dues
This ain't no, mischief shit that's out of the blue
[Scratched Redman Sample]
More than rough...we're calling your bluff...
And when it comes to rhymes...
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