Download from Apple Store
Download from Google Play

Allen McGrier - Fu-Gee-La (Sly & Robbie Remix) lyrics

[Intro: Sly & Robbie]
Refugee Camp represent to you, the group is called Fu-Gee with Wyclef and Lauryn, Prazwell with the international hardcore reggae beat; Done my selector!

[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

[Hook: Lauryn Hill]
Ooooh La La La, It's the way that we rock when we're doing our ting
Oooh La La La, It's the natural LA that the Refugees Bring
Oooh La La La La La La Lalala La Laaah, Sweeeeet Thing
She love me like no other before...
Hey Hey

[John Forté]
Dig it!
I stay high off the Fu-Gee-La, bust when we rush
Through you must, know 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 testthis set, then you get wet-up
Just a bit to unprepared to to shoot him fair bet
[Lauryn Hill]
[Lyrics from: https:/]
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 be
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's bootie and


I sit 90° underneath palm trees
Sittin' in the cool breeze in the West Indies
Flea to sea, ship my keys on the Santa María, 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 k** you softly like Roberta Flack

[Wyclef Jean] x2
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, trying to front like he's down with Mount Zion

Call Mister Martin, tell him to built a coffin
Today is d**h season, for akon it's MCs murderin'
Call Mister Martin, tell him to built a coffin
Today is d**h season,a hundred MCs are go murderin' (murderin')


[Wyclef Jean]
She love me as no other before

Correct these Lyrics