You know that haunting synth melody. It starts with a sort of eerie, wind-like whistle before those heavy drums kick in and Lauryn Hill’s voice just floats over the track. It’s "Ready or Not." It’s a song that basically everyone recognizes within three seconds, but most people don't realize how close it came to never being released at all. If you were around in 1996, you couldn't escape it. If you weren't, you’ve definitely heard it sampled or covered by everyone from Meek Mill to Anne-Marie. The Fugees weren't just making a radio hit; they were accidentally creating a blueprint for the "alternative" hip-hop that would eventually dominate the charts.
The Fugees—consisting of Lauryn Hill, Wyclef Jean, and Pras Michel—were in a weird spot before their second album, The Score, dropped. Their first record, Blunted on Reality, hadn't exactly set the world on fire. Critics were skeptical. The group felt like they had one shot left to prove they weren't just a gimmick. When Fugees Ready or Not Here I Come started circulating, it changed the temperature of the entire industry. It wasn't just the rap; it was the atmosphere.
The Enya Conflict That Almost Killed the Track
There's this massive misconception that every hit song from the 90s was a smooth, planned-out legal victory. Honestly, "Ready or Not" was a legal nightmare waiting to happen. The song is built around a heavy sample of Enya’s "Boadicea." The thing is, the Fugees didn't actually clear the sample before the album was released. It sounds crazy now, but things were a bit more "Wild West" back then.
Enya was famously protective of her work. She wasn't exactly thrilled to hear her ethereal Celtic vibes layered under gritty verses about street life and refugees. She nearly sued the group out of existence. Eventually, they settled out of court, and later pressings of The Score had to include a sticker or credit acknowledging her. It’s a classic example of "better to ask for forgiveness than permission," even if it cost them a fortune in royalties. Without that specific, ghostly loop from Enya, the song loses its soul. It would’ve just been another boom-bap track. Instead, it became something cinematic.
👉 See also: Nothing to Lose: Why the Martin Lawrence and Tim Robbins Movie is Still a 90s Classic
Why Lauryn Hill’s Verse is Still the Gold Standard
Let's be real. Wyclef is a genius producer and Pras provides the necessary grit, but Lauryn Hill is the reason this song is immortal. Her opening lines are some of the most quoted in the history of the genre. "I play my enemies like a game of chess." It’s a simple metaphor, sure, but the way she delivers it—calm, precise, almost bored with how much better she is than everyone else—is what makes it work.
She wasn't just rapping. She was singing the hook too. In 1996, the "singing rapper" wasn't really a thing yet. You were either a singer or an emcee. Lauryn basically forced the world to accept that you could be both. Drake, Kanye, and Lizzo all owe a massive debt to what she did on this specific track. She brought a level of vulnerability and technical skill that most rappers still can't touch. When she drops that line about "voodoo," she isn't just trying to sound edgy. She’s tapping into her heritage and a specific kind of spiritual intensity that gave the Fugees their name. They were "Refugees" from the norm.
The Delfonics Connection
The chorus of Fugees Ready or Not Here I Come is actually a direct lift from The Delfonics’ 1968 soul classic "Ready or Not Here I Come (Can't Hide from Love)." Most listeners in the 90s didn't know that. They thought the Fugees wrote it. By blending 60s Philadelphia soul with 80s Irish New Age music and 90s New York hip-hop, the group created a sonic bridge that shouldn't have worked. It’s a messy, beautiful collage.
✨ Don't miss: How Old Is Paul Heyman? The Real Story of Wrestling’s Greatest Mind
- The Delfonics provided the melody.
- Enya provided the mood.
- The Fugees provided the reality.
The Music Video and the $2 Million Gamble
You can't talk about "Ready or Not" without talking about the video. It cost roughly $2 million, which was an insane amount of money at the time. Directed by Marcus Nispel, it looked like a high-budget action movie. Submarines, jet skis, explosions—it was over-the-top in the best way possible.
It’s actually kinda funny looking back at it. They were trying so hard to look like international operatives or rebels in some Caribbean uprising. While some critics thought it was pretentious, it served a purpose. It told the world that hip-hop wasn't just about the "block" anymore. It was global. It was expensive. It was art. The Fugees were positioning themselves as something bigger than just a rap group. They were a movement.
The Darker Side of the Success
Success is a weird thing. While "Ready or Not" was topping charts in the UK and blasting out of every car in Brooklyn, the group was already starting to fracture. The internal dynamics—specifically the complicated relationship between Lauryn and Wyclef—meant that the very chemistry making the song great was also destroying the band.
🔗 Read more: Howie Mandel Cupcake Picture: What Really Happened With That Viral Post
A lot of fans don't realize that The Score was largely recorded in a basement studio called "The Booga Basement" in East Orange, New Jersey. The contrast between that cramped, DIY recording space and the multimillion-dollar video for "Ready or Not" is staggering. That tension between the street and the studio is all over the track. It feels claustrophobic and expansive at the same time.
How to Listen to the Fugees Like a Pro Today
If you want to actually appreciate what they did, you have to stop listening to it as a "throwback."
- Check the Bass: Listen to the song on a system with a real subwoofer. The bassline isn't just a rhythm; it's a heartbeat that offsets the high-pitched Enya sample.
- Ignore the Radio Edit: Find the full album version. The skits on The Score provide a context that makes the transition into the song much more impactful.
- Read the Lyrics: Seriously. Lauryn’s references to "refugees from Guantanamo Bay" were incredibly political for a pop hit. They were smuggled social commentary into the mainstream.
The Long-Term Impact on Pop Culture
The song has been sampled or interpolated dozens of times. When The Game used it in "Magnificent," it felt like a tribute. When Anne-Marie used it for "2002," it was pure nostalgia. But none of those versions quite capture the original’s sense of impending doom. There’s a reason people still play it in clubs and at protests. It feels urgent. It feels like someone is actually coming for you.
"Ready or Not" isn't just a song; it's a moment where the stars aligned for three people who would never quite find that same magic together again. It’s the peak of a very specific mountain.
Next Steps for Music Lovers:
To truly understand the DNA of this track, your next move should be listening to Enya’s "Boadicea" back-to-back with The Delfonics' "Ready or Not Here I Come (Can't Hide from Love)." This side-by-side comparison reveals exactly how the Fugees acted as curators, not just musicians. After that, revisit Lauryn Hill’s The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill to see how she evolved the "singing-rapper" persona she perfected on this track. This isn't just about nostalgia—it's about tracing the lineage of modern pop-rap to its most important source.