Testo Fu-Gee-La - Fugees feat. Ms. Lauryn Hill, Wyclef Jean & Pras
Testo della canzone Fu-Gee-La (Fugees feat. Ms. Lauryn Hill, Wyclef Jean & Pras), tratta dall'album The Score
From out of the Refugee Camp we present to you
The group we call Fu-Gee
With Wyclef and Lauryn, Prazwell with the international
Sly and Robbie on the hardcore reggae beat
Now my selector, come now
Can I feel the vibe
Can I feel the vibe
We used to be number ten, now we permanent on one
Wyclef, Preacher's Son, Ichiban
Listen Mrs Tin Can, I'm your candy handy man
Me without you is like American without the band-stand
Cool fellow, dancehall stay mellow
All that guntalk who would have thought you died yellow
Damn, another hero wannabe
Now he sleeps with his friends in the mortuary
Dude, I find it rude when you intrude
My pistol nozzle hits your nasal, doo-doo comes out your anal
Just because you're buff, don't play tuff
'Cause I'll reverse the earth and turn your flesh back to dust
Oh la-la-la
It's the way that we rock when we're doin' our thing
Oh la-la-la
It's the natural la that the Refugees bring
Ooh la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la
Sweet thing, she love me like never before, ayy
Dig it, I stay high off the Fu-Gee-La
Bust when we rush through
You must knew Ruckus Crew got G's like the refu's
So F- who-ever want to test, bring me stress
West Coast back to East, grab my toast when I reach
Truly curvin', swervin', lifestyle is urban sippin' Bourbon, surviving
We real to keep the word when a boy want fi test this set
Then you get wet-up just a bit too unprepared to shoot him fair bet
Fake bullets can't scar me
I can smell the weak out like safari
Play you out like Atari, sacrifice you Hari Kari
And I'm sorry, to every single rapper, Dick and Harry
Saying they want to spar me
'Cause how thick my repertoire and my memoir be
Reminding me of eating Calamari in the Kalahari
With a band of Rastafari so
Ha-ha-ha-ha, you shouldn't diss refugees, and
Ha-ha-ha-ha, you whole sound set booty, and
Oh la-la-la
It's the way that we rock when we're doin' our thing
Oh la-la-la
It's the remix sound that the Refugees bring
Ooh la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la
Sweet thing, she love me like never before, ayy
I sit 90 degrees underneath palm trees
Sitting in the cool breeze in the West Indies (mmh)
Flea to sea, ship my keys
On Santa Maria, sip Sangria with señoritas
(They keep telling me this, telling me that)
They smile in my face then they talk behind my back
But what they lack, is the facts about my stats
My rap impact will kill you softly like Roberta Flack (ayo, what's goin' on?)
Armageddon come you know we soon done
Gun by my side just in case I gotta rump
A boy on the side of Babylon
Tryin' to front like he's down with Mount Zion
What's goin' on? Armageddon come you know we soon done
Gun by my side just in case I gotta rump
A boy on the side of Babylon
Tryin' to front like he's down with Mount Zion
Call Mr Martin, tell him to build a coffin
Today is death season, a 100 MCs are get murderin' (stop it)
Call Mr Martin, tell him to build a coffin
Today is death season, a 100 MCs are get murderin', ha-ha-ha
Oh la-la-la
It's the way that we rock when we're doin' our thing
Oh la-la-la
It's the remix sound that the Refugees bring
Ooh la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la
Sweet thing, she love me like never before, ayy
Oh la-la-la
It's the way that we rock when we're doin' our thing
Oh la-la-la
It's the remix sound that the Refugees bring
Ooh la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la
Sweet thing, she love me like never before, ayy
Call Mr Martin, tell him to build a coffin
Today is death season, for Akon is MC murderin'
Call Mr Martin, tell him to build a coffin
Today is death season, a 100 MCs are get murderin'
Refugee camp (stop it, oh no)
Refugee camp (stop it, oh no)
Refugee camp (stop it, oh no)
Refugee camp (stop it, oh no)
Refugee camp (stop it, oh no)
Refugee camp (stop it, oh no)
Refugee camp (stop it, oh no)
Refugee camp (stop it, oh no)
Refugee camp
Credits
Writer(s): Salaam Remi, Wyclef Jean, Kenneth G. Greene, Lauryn N. Hill, Samuel Prakazrel Michel, Allen Henry Mcgrier, Teena Marie Brockert, Dave M. L. Hall
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