Fu-Gee-La (Sly & Robbie Mix)

From out the Refugee Camp we present to you, the group we call Fu-Gee

With Wyclef and Lauryn, Prazwell with the international Sly & 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're permanent 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 your buff, don't play tuff

'Cause I'll reverse the earth and turn your flesh back to dust

Ooh, la-la-la

It's the way that we rock when we're doin' our thing

Ooh, 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 she 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 whoever 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 fa test this set

Then you get wet-up

Just a bit to unprepared to 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

Ooh, la-la-la

It's the way that we rock when we're doin' our thing

Ooh, 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 she never before, ayy)

I sit 90 degrees underneath palm trees

Sitting in the cool breeze in the West Indies

Flea to sea, ship my keys

On the Santa Maria, sip Sangria with señoritas

(They keep telling me this and 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 you're down with Mount Zion

Yo, 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 you're down with Mount Zion (Zion)

Call Mister Martin, tell him to built a coffin

Today is death season, a hundred MCs are get murderin' (Stop it)

Call Mister Martin, tell him to built a coffin

Today is death season, a hundred MCs are get murderin', ha-ha-ha

Ooh, la-la-la

It's the way that we rock when we're doin' our thang

Ooh, 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 she never before, ayy)

Ooh, la-la-la

It's the way that we rock when we're doin' our thang

Ooh, 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 she never before, ayy)

Call Mister Martin, tell him to built a coffin

Today is death season, for Akon is MC murderin' (Stop it)

Call Mister Martin, tell him to built a coffin

Today is death season, a hundred 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)