Remember the Name

You ready? Let's go!
Yeah, for those of you that wanna know what we're all about
It's like this y'all, come on!

This is ten percent luck, twenty percent skill
Fifteen percent concentrated power of will
Five percent pleasure, fifty percent pain
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 a 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 a salary
It's all about reality and making some noise
Making a story, making sure his clique stays up
That means when he puts it down Tak's picking it up, let's go
Who the hell is he anyway? He never really talks much
Never concerned with status but still leaving 'em star struck
Humbled through opportunities given despite the fact
That many misjudge him cause he makes a living from writing raps
Put it together himself, now the picture connects
Never asking for someone's help, or to get some respect
His only focus on what he wrote, his will is beyond reach
And how it all unfolds, the skill of an artist
This is twenty percent skill, eighty percent fear
Be a hundred percent clear, cause Ryu is here
Who would've thought he'd be the one to set the West in flames?
I heard him wreck it with the crystal meth, the name of the game
Came back, dropped Megadef, took 'em to church
I'm like, "Bleach, man, why you got the stupidest verse?"
This dude is the truth, now everybody giving him guest spots
His stock's through the roof, I heard him fucking with S. Dot

This is ten percent luck, twenty percent skill
Fifteen percent concentrated power of will
Five percent pleasure, fifty percent pain
A hundred percent reason to remember the name

They call him Ryu, he's sick and he's spitting fire with Mike
Got him out the dryer, he's hot, about to make Fort Minor with Tak
With a fucking Iron, let's forget 'Bana, he's a prick, he's a cock
The type women wanna be with and rappers hope he get shot
Eight years in the making, patiently waiting to blow
Now the record with Shinoda's taking over the globe
He's got a partner in crime, his shit is equally dope
You won't 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, making his way to the top
He often gets a comment on his name, people keep asking him
Was it given at birth or does it stand for an acronym?
No, he's living proof, got him rocking the booth
He'll get you buzzing quicker than a shot of vodka and juice, juice
Him and his crew are known around as one of the best
Dedicated to what they do and 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, 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, the kids that he signed?
Ridiculous, without even trying, how do they do it?

This is ten percent luck, twenty percent skill
Fifteen percent concentrated power of will
Five percent pleasure, fifty percent pain
A hundred percent reason to remember the name
This is ten percent luck, twenty percent skill
Fifteen percent concentrated power of will
Five percent pleasure, fifty percent pain
A hundred percent reason to remember the name

Yeah, Fort Minor, M. Shinoda, Stars and Beyond
Ryu, Takbir, Machine Shop!