• Voto:
"Cause they know when you grab this man
you just be ciphin' knowledge man, knowledge as we buildin' up man
That's why they want no brothers to be out here man, you know I'm sayin'?"
La storia dei Fugees è quella di tre ragazzi che sin dai tempi delle scuole medie avevano intenzione di far sentire la loro voce al mondo. Gruppo formato dallo schivo Pras, dallo scanzonato Wyclef Jean e dalla carismatica ed intensa Lauryn Hill, è sempre stato al centro della vecchia e nuova cultura hip-hop, della quale sono riusciti a rompere diversi clichè e preconcetti esposti da una cultura prettamente ottusa e maschilista. Il loro esordio "Blunted on reality" è il primo capitolo della saga Fugees, considerati da molti i veri(ed unici)pionieri della musica hip-hop. Quella colta. La consacrazione arriva nel 1996 con "The Score", album dal forte spessore soprattutto concettuale, dove vengono sovvertiti diversi dogmi ed assiomi tipici del territorio urban. I Fugees non hanno timore nel rivendicare le proprie origini, esporre le proprie paure e sentimenti mostrandosi talvota fragili, ponendo in rima quell'anima che è sempre mancata al mondo black escluso il settore soul e gospel. Ed è forse questo che manca al primo album dei Fugees. Un pò più d'anima, d'anima black. Quel soul vibrante che ha fatto di "The Score" un capolavoro.
Contestazione politica, rabbia, ed incredibile forza ,non solo interiore. Tematiche affrontate in un crescente clima di totale immersione urban preponderante e mai criptica. Con questo lavoro targato 1994 i Nostri si fanno conoscere al grande pubblico che accoglie solo tiepidamente questa talentuosa band. Musicalmente l'album appare molto compatto, ben costruito ma ancora non troppo rivoluzionario o pioneristico. Leggerissimi accenni di Jazz si mescolano a sonorità afro, reggae e duro hip-hop a tratti paraculo. D'altronde non c'è da stupirsi, i tempi non sono ancora maturi. La bellissima Lauryn in questo album è ancora fossilizzata nel personaggio di donna del rap, rifacendosi a modelli come Queen Latifah, forti e poco vibranti nella loro dolcezza e instabilità. Instabilità che negli anni a seguire è diventato un tratto caratterizzante della Hill, donna inquieta, fragile nella sua forza, impegnata politicamente e incazzata col mondo. In "Blunted on reality" quello che manca è appunto la sensibilizzazione a tematiche vicine non solo al lato politico e intellettuale del gruppo ma anche umano. Se da un canto viene affrontato l'importante tema della situazione dei rifugiati di Haiti e viene criticata buona fetta del sistema governativo americano, dall'altro manca però la sincerità totalmente cristallina presente nel lavoro successivo dei Fugees. Ottimi pezzi come Boof Baf, Temple e soprattutto l'energetica Happy Heads,forse uno dei rap migliori di Lauryn, e molto riuscita anche Vocab, un'acoustic version che sembra aprire la strada alla produzione postuma della band. Forse al di sotto tracce come Giggles(seppur molto godibile) e Refugees on the Mic, pezzi ancora troppo ancorati ad alcuni stereotipi peculiari della dottrina hip hop soprattutto del tempo,in particolar modo dal punto di vista strumentale.
Un buon album, buonissimo...ma il meglio dovrà ancora venire. Un paio d'anni e il gioco è fatto. Ecco a voi il testo di Vocab ^^
You got the vocab
I got the vocab
You got the vocab
You know I got the vocab
You got the vocab
I got the vocab
Hey, yo pass the mic so I can tell 'em I got the gift o' gab
Monkey see, monkey what? Monkey, monkey be yourself.
Hey yo catch me when I'm sober, but now I drink for the belt.
So pass the root straight to the right hand side.
Make no mistake that the buzz is a natural high.
I said it's big emergency mind your busy body
He hit me. I broke his nose. The referee's Mr Fuji.
So hey to the blue jay, mocking bird don't mock.
The last bird who mocked he got caught in my roughneck chicken pot.
So Mr Rooster give me a crookedy croo at 6am
He looked at me a laughin' said my music would make F.M.
Station. You're Haitian. You'll never get nowhere.
But I sweared on my grandmother grave we'd be here.
So now when I back track
I back track far enough to make a nigga run and leave his tongue back.
You think I'm cool I think you're cruel so here's a shell cap.
On your gluteus maximus and leave ya handicapped.
Ratatatat.
Chorus
Hoboes above leave the boat for the Pope
Boat people here we go Hi De Hi De Hi De Ho Yeah
Some quest for the truth, some bust a loop.
And search for some knowledge that come runnin' in the woods.
And if I should a choose to be one
Then I will be a ???? hoodin' with books and look to kill.
My proof is in my puddin'
If I chill in the hood would you be say that I'm hoodin'?
Now. Let me exercise a new style that will brutalise
MCs into a warpath genocide.
Nobody move, nobody get hurt. It's a homocide
So jump jump punks ready to get stuck.
Evil Kenevil was my man, someone for the stunts.
I'm mostly fillies, I'm just straight up front, ha.
Meat ya tryin' to light up you get blast like nitrogen.
Runnin' for mercy, runnin' for oxygen.
Bad L.A. meat you're better off comittin' suicide.
I shoot the lip so high I strip you of your carbon dioxide
Rock-a-bye the lullaby he be singin' 'Oh my'.
Boof Baff another son a go die.
What's the matter with the black man?
Now a statistic. So dreams of her become realistic.
Poor bastard gets mystic I don't believe you checked the psychic
Emancipate your mind. Don't set the limit. Reach the summit.
Free your spirit 'cause your blunted
From the lyrics I just stuttered.
'Live off the streets' says the brother with the machete.
'Live off the lady' says the brother with the glock in patrol.
I live logically, no weak slave to poverty.
You see it's very easy to slip between the asphalt sheet.
Brothers from my way they used to get mad plays.
Till they caught us bustin' doughnuts 'til the break of day.
Brother, my brother, you played me undercover.
She wouldn't be your lover so now you tried to dis her
For sister. You missed her but ask yourself a question.
Can I make a suggestion? I need a true confession.
Is she skivs 'cause the skin that she's in makes you sin?
Does you hit her just to get her integrate another sister?
Mister. I asked him for a hanky. He asked if he could spank me.
So why'd you disrespect me, sir?
Were you thinking I'm misguided or were you tryin to hide it
That you had no father figure.
Which? Check out your wackness. It won't distrust my blackness.
I wonder for a smack, but don't think that it would help this.
What's the matter with the black man
All original gunman dem original good
Come jackin' it up an' I bad an' me fell in ma booby trap
With a rappin' up for the eight track play back laid back sit back
An I'll ???? an me runnin' ???? as a matter a fact
'Cause I trappin' a back like a cool six pack now bring it back. Woah!
United we stand, divided we crumble.
What's the flavour? More Babylon, more Babylon, more Babylon fall
These days every man want to be a god.
Lay down the gun every man on the floor.
But the real gunman him not play Hollywood role.
Because he pull out his gun and send another boy down.
Watch us bleed. Another gunman go bleed.
Watch us bleed. If I used up all my dust I got?
Watch us bleed. Me up an' comin' ready.
Watch us bleed. Watch us for original Tranzlator Crew.
Oh, er, every time we come, we come correct, see.
We out
Elenco tracce testi e video
08 Boof Baf (05:11)
(Wyclef Jean)
I'm Chill-Master-Nell of a thousand emcees
But how are you gonna tell the real I bust from these fo' knees
Cause he sees everyone with a deal with a record company
They go home, they write a rhyme, they think they ready to battle better
Some write forward, some write backward
I wait for them to get the cheeba-ganja then reverse yo
With a verse that's worse than the last one
some say BOO! he's the po he used to diss Jamaicans
and Hatians cause you thought I was American
Ay Pras, remember that song they sang, YEAH!!
Go back to Jamaica, what's good is what's new
But now we move off with Uncle's with a trail-crate of COOLER!!
(Pras)
I'm from the island, the island I'm from is the strong island
Emcees must be right, when I syke from lack of freestylin'
Mind must be sharp until my holler girl, I get all in
Black stylin', ridin', Boof'll be trappin'
When they come to battle champ see the shoes flappin'
Huh, coolin' while I'm rappin'
(Chorus: Wyclef Jean)
(BOOF BAF!!), another sound of a guy
(BOOF BAF!!), never boy, duck punk, try
(BOOF BAF!!), another sound of a guy
(BOOF BAF!!), never boy, duck punk, try
(Wyclef Jean)
Said if you write with pencil you must write with (PEN!)
If you have a rooster you must have a (HEN!)
Five plus five you know that equals to (TEN!)
Then spit the yellow man, check it to groove-to-groove site
(Pras)
One, two, I throw a flow to catch it
Three, four, back she know before the track miss
I FUCK ya when style go, to wreck this static
(But yo sister, grab the mic and do damage!!)
(Lauryn Hill)
Aiyyo I used to drive a hooptie, check me down swoopie
Rollin' with the Jones' but I different homozones
See life's got no value if I ain't got no statue
Hannibal heads, I be the kid from "Timbuktu"
One, two, zip me-me, check the mic I'm ready
Three, four, please the army - "Oh God", with Uzi's
So what, converse man, the chicken or the hoodie
get the - hoodie came first then mans' then would be Nancy
To kill the Jesse James rough, step back, check your steps
I'll love your theory like the chi-chi-woo-woo-boogie-man
You say I'm balanced but you're Silence of the Lambs
And when I call your name I say Candyman, Candyman, Candyman
Cause I can, can, yes, I can, can
(Chorus: Wyclef Jean)
(BOOF BAF!!), another sound of a guy
(BOOF BAF!!), never boy, duck punk, try
(BOOF BAF!!), another sound of a guy
(BOOF BAF!!), never boy, duck punk, try
(Wyclef Jean)
Well I'm on fire (FIRE), FIRE (FIRE), FIRE (FIRE)
So let me re-light your viacom
And let you enter the-the-elec-tronic (COOL!!)
And let you enter the-the-elec-tronic (COOL!!)
And let you enter the-the-elec-tronic (COOL!!)
And let you enter the-the-elec-tronic (COOL!!)
All that movin' I call my nozzle you see I was an electronic
You listen to your lyrics in chime - your Panasonic
The ly-ly-ly-lyricaler, the di-di-di-digital
Pras take the mic man, you know you're really critical
(Pras)
Stall emcees-soft-put 'em up for-er-Death Row (yeah)
Rhyme and cultural, style and never old
Slashed the priest-fool, ooh, you're filth-swolled
(Wyclef Jean)
I say no to spliff but my friends still smoke ?Juano?
Coolin' it, coolin' it, coolin' it
Somebody chuck me-who the who'd you think?
hold the mic, hold the mic, I shoot 'em
down with my last one, last one, last one, last one and
(Boo-shoo-coo-coo!!) SMOKE!!
I got my bullet-proof and now to send my bozack
(Chorus: Wyclef Jean)
(BOOF BAF!!), another sound of a guy
(BOOF BAF!!), never boy, duck punk, try
(BOOF BAF!!), another sound of a guy
(BOOF BAF!!), never boy, duck punk, try
(Mad Spider)
Rich rap come from the brothers in the neigborhood
who used to rap on a Polaroid - here comes Father Joe
Let me clock the block as I pull fo'-five
Boof Baf - I cut the block with gat-stops
I used to play hookie just to see how good an emcee was
He said I bust a battle - aight, I still took a gun
No cheeba, cheeba just a Libra on a last ride
I waited so long that I thought I died and came back alive
So hear the spirits, many fear, ?Sir New Stosser?
This the new thing under the Sun, when I come, I come
Bam-bam, alakazam, he grabbed the mic
up the block they ran, I came back with the bag
cause that's my momma man
I'm just patrollin', move off in the block
but the spot that I clock, you get shot if your numbers' about
So don't get caught in the fast lane, the fast lane
A just remain yourself and be the same
Cause many rapper-days, say nuttin' for nuttin'
So here's sut-um to take you from the am to the pm
(Pras)
Cause a imitator could never be greater than the creator
whose the originator, step up infiltrator
See you in the alligator - back stabbin' traitor
Tape recorder, duplicator, roughly rhymin' with the head tranzlator, hah!
AND LEAVE THE FORTY TO BE NAUGHTY IN THE FRIDGERATOR!!!
(Chorus: Wyclef Jean)
(BOOF BAF!!), another sound of a guy
(BOOF BAF!!), never boy, duck punk, try
(BOOF BAF!!), another sound of a guy
(BOOF BAF!!), never boy, duck punk, try
(BOOF BAF!!), another sound of a guy
(BOOF BAF!!), never boy, duck punk, try
(BOOF BAF!!), another sound of a guy
(BOOF BAF!!), never boy, duck...
(Wyclef Jean)
Say gun-man (BOOF BAF!!) say tell me where you get your (???) from (BOOF BAF!!)
You musta get it from the foreign land (BOOF BAF!!)
We want to shoot up the old a Babylon (BOOF BAF!!)
Pay the man to rhyme onto it
Say gun-man (BOOF BAF!!) say tell me where you get your (???) from (BOOF BAF!!)
You musta get it from the foreign land (BOOF BAF!!)
You want to kill your own brother man (BOOF BAF!!), ay, ay, ay (BOOF BAF!!)
(*undecipherable singing*)
10 How Hard Is It (03:54)
(Mad Spider)
Wait a second, draw back, ban this here I come
Stick this business, stock me up, they took me coat with a stun gun
On a Sunday, a bloody Sunday, so what´s the resume?
Heads got felt in the force I heard a Milky Way
I caught a heart attack when I heard my cousin (???)
In Avenue D. in Brooklyn New York City
ever since I used my man I moved to Jersey
But realistically, God, could of called me early
Cause I got a big bop I´m wanted by the block
I take a ruff-neck chicken make stop in stone top
Cause I roll with the army of sixty-eight
The Privates´ don´t make the orders it´s the General that makes the wig-wack
Buy her back, buy a cat, I got scratched in a day to kidnap
and at night I was back and the Jeep got attacked by a gang that sold crack
But the posse was strapped it was nothin´ but CRAP!!
I got cuffed in the back, in the jail there were rats
So I pulled out my mack to get out of this crap
Though I wish I could zap outta here but I quack like a dog
that pass gats so I put the gas mask on the mic
there were blasts cause I do it it´s my task
And all the jumper the guys that I see to me pass the class
Check out the vocab, it´ll get out, then get it, do it again
gift of the guy if you´re good you´re good, if you´re bad you´re bad
(Chorus: Wyclef Jean)
So how hard is it? (Hard as it can get)
I wanna know, how hard do you wanna it? (Hard as it can get)
(Pras)
One, two (ONE, TWO), three, four (THREE, FOUR)
Hardcore (HARDCORE), hardcore (HARDCORE)
Yo, watch yourself for your health I´ll snatch your last breath
Then I left you up for another one bites the dust
You couldn´t ride me if you went behind the bush, gush
Leave the style alone, don´t try to follow me
Cause a life of the hood make it a little triggery
So keep your eyes on the prize, don´t be surprised
Cause on my half I may pull out a semi-automatic sixty-eight
watch around my back it´s mainly static
Droppin´ emcees like a bad habit
Here come the Pras with a new package
(Wyclef Jean)
Mad and they ignorance, think they can test the performance of an ancient (RAPPER!!)
Let me break it down in a dialect (BADDER!!)
Easier said than what the mono said
cause there´s more than righter rapper, paid for the rapper be-bop
Cause he said everybody´s rappin´, them and they momma
So when I grab the mic I grab it like a gangster
Microphone sniper cause it´ll be the prowler
(Mad Spider)
Launch it, it´s trife, no magic, the realistic maggot
Don´t leave the gadget or you´ll be gat it
Simple - the riddle, who´s the monkey in the middle
What´s the goose - um!
So let me cut his neck loose yo
I keep it positive and not so negative
These is when you diss, emcees take it
So send it to they call the battle
I´ma raw I let it rappin´ now I´m more
your ball, you´re waitin´ for me to fall, but I won´t, ssss...
(Chorus: Wyclef Jean)
So how hard is it? (Hard as it can get)
I wanna know, how hard do you wanna it? (Hard as it can get)
(Levi)
I gotta jump on the A-Train, I saw cat with a scat he was blowin´ like coal-train
My boys´ said give him a call, I gave him a dollar, he said are you a rapper?
Kids have a seat and don´t miss a beat and listen to the battle of the saxin´ in your emcee
(Wyclef Jean)
Now Red Rock, call Red Rock, call Red Rock, call Red Rock, call Red Rock call
(It could mean rewind the gun-check me baby)
(Lauryn Hill)
I rock and shock the dough is show squeeze and cheese and whether pleasin´
(It could mean rewind the gun-check me baby)
I rock and shock the dough is show squeeze and cheese and whether pleasin´
Coolin´ breezin´ at the teas and how can emcees do was sneeze
(FLOWER, BLOW!!)
(Chorus: Wyclef Jean)
So how hard is it? (Hard as it can get)
I wanna know, how hard do you wanna it? (Hard as it can get)
So how hard is it? (Hard as it can get)
I wanna know, how hard do you wanna it? (Hard as it can get)
So how hard is it? (Hard as it can get)
I wanna know, how hard do you wanna it? (Hard as it can get)
So how hard is it? (Hard as it can get)
I wanna know, how hard do you wanna it? (Hard as it can get)
So how hard is it? (Hard as it can get)
I wanna know, how hard do you wanna it? (Hard as it can get)
So how hard is it?...
12 Some Seek Stardom (03:44)
[Lauryn Hill]
AhhhhhH!
Check the crippled man, sittin in the church
My conscience hurts, flesh like me hits the dirt
She's paralyzed from her feet to her thighs
And the man who pulled the trigger didn't even lose his necktie
Hi/I check Jimmy cuttin hair at the barbershop
He plays the bass guitar, like David plays the harp
His knowledge name is Greek, cause whenever he speaks
He's got the wisdom of King Solomon bags in his eyes from no sleep
Sometimes he thought of the fame in Madison Square Garden
So some seek stardom, but they forget Harlem
But seeking first of all the kingdom of God is what my pops told me
So if I fall, could the choir catch me
I flew away, on a mountain, got tempted by Satan
Got bitten by a cobra, but the Lord took my venom
So who's side am I on? I'm on the righteous
Always check the lyrics, no time to contradict
Chorus:
Some seek stardom, then they forget Harlem (3X)
They/brothers/sisters/families/people/we/brothers
keep their pockets full, but their souls run empty
Well aiyyo family I beseech you, in the hopes that I may reach you
My mother taught me one day that this mid-day would come someday
Born to talk that jive, with peaky hair grown wild
And teachers disliked me, cause I knew where my culture be
So now yeah mom I read history, I can't neglect my passion see
Rock it's kind of new to me, cause my true love was poetry
White was good and bad was black but black was just a massa lackey
built for that B. Nimble Jack and I'd like to save you from the wicked
D-Dog clear I wouldn't be wet
The black to mourn, tomorrow's death
The evil things, glad that I, while angels wrote this violence why?
Help me make me comprehend my black bezerk and why cast it
Time to blaze the angels nappy heads are braided that you make me
see what's hard for me that don't make you flee
when I enter your vicinity, you see my God ain't never after me
So yo I be wised up with Greek
To go and be, the last and good and see what's wrong with me
and through your insecurity of me and my ability
So bredren won't you let me be or has thou asked to much from thy
to tell the truth and not to lie? Oh my...
Chorus 2X
But as I grew, I knew cause the master told me
from a baby to a woman from a woman to a baby
Life is so short, hardcore becomes hard-corpse
Step in a coffin where the money's no longer the source
*singing*
There we go, there we go, there we go
I got mine now won't you get yours, we never open doors
so we neglect, and don't protect the ones that's not
people never really seem to care
And then they cry out, "My people! Why aren't we treated equal?"
As we flee, we flee our own communities
We leave our family in poverty
And then we blame it on another, so family please recover
Oh c'mon please come now with you can come with me now and blow now
if you want to, we're through...
Chorus 4x
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