Remember The Name

You ready? Lets go! Yeah, for those of you that want to know what we're all about It's like this y'all c'mon It's just ten percent luck Twenty percent skill Fifteen percent concentrated power of will Five percent pleasure Fifty percent pain And a hundred percent reason to remember the name Mike He doesn't need his name up in lights He just wants to be heard whether it's the beat or the mic He feels so unlike everybody else, alone In spite of the fact that some people still think that they know him But fuck em' He knows the code It's not about the salary It's about reality and makin' some noise Makin' the story Makin' sure his clique stays up That means when he puts it down Tak's pickin' it up Who the hell is he anyway? He never really talks much Never concerned with status but still leavin' them star struck Humbled through opportunities given to him despite the fact That many misjudge him because he makes a livin' from writin raps Put it together himself, now the picture connects Never askin for someone's help, to get some respect He's only focused on what he wrote, his will is beyond reach And now when it all unfolds, the skill of an artist It's just twenty percent skill Eighty percent fear Be one hundred percent clear 'cause Ryu is ill Who would've thought that he'd be the one to set the west in flames And I heard him wreckin' with The Crystal Method, Name Of The Game Came back dropped Megadef, took 'em to church I'm like 'bleach, man, why you have the stupidest verse?' This dude is the truth, now everybody be givin' him guest spots His stock's through the roof I heard he fuckin' with S-Dot! It's just ten percent luck Twenty percent skill Fifteen percent concentrated power of will Five percent pleasure Fifty percent pain And a hundred percent reason to remember the name They call him Ryu the sick And he's spittin fire at Mike Got him out the dryer he's hot Found him in Fort Minor with Tak Been a fuckin' annihilist porcupine He's a prick, he's a cock The type woman want to be with And rappers hope he get shot Eight years in the makin' Patiently waitin to blow Now the record with Shinoda's takin' over the globe He's got a partner in crime his shit is equally dope You wont believe the kind of shit that comes out of this kid's throat Tak He's not your everyday on the block He knows how to work with what he's got Makin' his way to the top People think its a common owners name People keep askin him was it given at birth Or does it stand for an acronym? No he's livin' proof Got him rockin' the booth He'll get you buzzin' quicker than a shot of vodka with juice Him and his crew are known around as one of the best Dedicated to what they doin give a hundred percent Forget Mike Nobody really knows how or why he works so hard It seems like he's never got time Because he writes every note and he writes every line And I've seen him at work when that light goes on in his mind It's like a design is written in his head every time Before he even touches a key or speaks in a rhyme And those motherfuckers he runs with, those kids that he signed Ridiculous, without even tryin', how do they do it? It's just ten percent luck Twenty percent skill Fifteen percent concentrated power of will Five percent pleasure Fifty percent pain And a hundred percent reason to remember the name It's just ten percent luck Twenty percent skill Fifteen percent concentrated power of will Five percent pleasure Fifty percent pain And a hundred percent reason to remember the name Yeah Fort Minor, M. Shinoda Styles of Beyond, Ryu, Takbir Machine Shop