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Fugees - Fu-Gee-La

Music Video
ArtistFugees
SongFu-Gee-La
DirectorGuy Guillet
IntroNo
OutroNo
Sound MixStereo
Technical Specificationscolour - format unknown

Wiki

Synopsis

Presented like a compact Caribbean crime movie, "Fu-Gee-La" opens with the Fugees appearing as the stars of an action story. A motorcycle-riding thief steals a briefcase from a man at a diner, setting off a pursuit involving the group. Wyclef Jean, Lauryn Hill, and Pras Michel alternate between performance scenes and narrative passages, with stark locations, outdoor gatherings, and cement-column backdrops giving the video a rough, cinematic atmosphere. The performers seem to move through a world where music, danger, and escape are inseparable.

Factoids & Trivia

  • The video was filmed in Jamaica, reinforcing the Caribbean influence that runs through the Fugees' music and image.
  • The Fugees conceived the clip as an homage to the 1972 Jamaican crime film "The Harder They Come." Its opening credits and robbery storyline deliberately make the video feel like a miniature feature film rather than a conventional performance clip.
  • The visual concept gives each member a distinct role within the crime-story framework, while still leaving room for group performance footage.
  • "Fu-Gee-La" was released as the lead single from the Fugees' second album, "The Score," in 1995 and became the group's first major U.S. pop-chart breakthrough.
  • The song's production helped establish the blend of hip-hop, reggae, soul, and Caribbean influences that became central to the Fugees' breakthrough era.
  • The video is notable for presenting the group before the much larger visual budgets and global attention that followed the success of "The Score" and "Killing Me Softly."

Lyrics

[CLEF:]
We used to be number 10
Now we're permanent one,
In the battle lost my finger, Mic became my arm
Pistol nozzle hits your nasal, blood becomes lukewarm
Tell the woman be easy Naah squeeze the Charmin
Test Wyclef, see death flesh get scorned.
Beat you so bad make you feel like you ain't wanna be born
And tell your friends stay the hell out of my lawn.
Chicken George became Dead George stealin' chickens from my farm.
Damn, Another dead pigeon
If your mafiosos then I'm bringin' on Haitian Sicilians
Nobody's shootin', my body's made of hand grenade
...
© Fugees - Fu-Gee-La. This is an excerpt, provided as citation under fair-use.
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