Ah yea party people,
Here we go.
(8x)
Party people,
Rocks da house.
Ya'll want some more?
Ya'll want some more?
If y'all want some more,
Let me here you say Yea!
Let me here you say hell yea! Hell yea....
(12x)
Party People,
Rocks da house.
Yo. Tuna the smoke-jumper, packin my oral cannon,
Bustin' from Okinawa, Japan to Laurel Canyon.
Swallow flows, we turning like plush tires.
Mellow intros, lyrics be burning like brush fires.
Spreading vocal leprosy; using discrepancy.
Lyric weaponry lessens your chances of testing me.
Stop and freeze m.c.'s, I block atrocities.
True philosophies from the lips of black Socrates.
The pocket-penciler in your peninsula,
killing Dracula m.c.'s who bit from my vernacular.
I can back it. The ill scene we occupy
no lullaby, got you high, when I rock a fly
verse, for my people, let me breath slow
give a heave-ho, and stimulate your cerebral
system. Cut Chemist grip the fader
with Tuna the group debater
we murder you duplicators,
'cuz I'm an aristocrat, ghetto diplomat,
and I'm blessed with the gift for rap.
It's like that.
Rocks da house....
I, the aristocrat, ghetto diplomat,
and I'm blessed with the gift for rap.
It's like that.
Rocks da house....
Yo. They call me Mister Antagonistic, drastic.
Comin' from a place where these cops get their ass kicked.
The last trick unified was the cornerstone.
A lyric pistol to the dome is how we warn a clone.
Born alone, the strength of god makes my mission higher.
They found the liar dead, strung up with fishin wire.
The mystifier packin' vocal artillery,
makin lovely word connections like Chuck Woolery.
The cool in me, I'll make your block turn on one rhyme.
Electrifyin' like some nocturnal sunshine.
The planetary pioneer and his mixer,
(Cut Chemist.) Chali tuna spittin scriptures,
paintin pictures. Even sisters adapt 'cuz
we take it back like chiropractors.
Fuckin' actors on wax make worse for real mc's who worth your while
and so they search for me,
the aristocrat, ghetto diplomat,
and I'm blessed with the gift for rap.
It's like that.
Rocks da house...
I, the aristocrat, ghetto diplomat
and I'm blessed with the gift for rap
It's like that.
Rocks da house...
Should I let, should I let....
Aha. One two, one, two, check it,
Yo. Should I let ya know,
Should I mention that you lost a vital part of your body
In competion with the T to the U N Ah, the bread winner,
lyrical lead spinner, that's hittin' you dead center.
(2x)
I the aristocrat, ghetto diplomat,
and I'm blessed with the gift for rap.
Its like that.
Rocks da house...
Yo, yo. It's like that y'all, It's like that.
Everybody out there y'all, it's like that.
My name is tuna fish, y'all. It's like that.
And we are Ozomatli. It's like that. Yo.
I the aristocrat, ghetto diplomat,
and I'm blessed with the gift for rap.
Its like that.
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