Fu-Gee-La Refugee Camp Remix
Fugees
[Verse 1: Wyclef Jean]
(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

[Chorus: Wyclef Jean]
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)
[Verse 2: John Forte]
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

[Verse 3: Lauryn Hill]
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
[Chorus: Wyclef Jean]
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)

[Verse 4: Pras]
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

[Verse 5: Wyclef Jean]
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)
[Verse 6: Akon]
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

[Chorus: Wyclef Jean]
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)
Write the lyrics for a rap song made in 1996, titled "Fu-Gee-La Refugee Camp Remix", by artist "Fugees".