Remember The Name

You ready?! Let's go!
 Yeah, for those of you that want to know what we're all about
 It's like this y'all (c'mon!)
 This is 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 all about reality and making some noise
 Making the 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 them star struck
 Humbled through opportunities given despite the fact
 That many misjudge him because 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
 He's only focused on what he wrote, his will is beyond reach
 And now it all unfolds, the skill of an artist
 This is twenty percent skill
 Eighty percent fear
 Be a 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 wreck it with The Crystal Method, "Name Of The Game"
 Came back dropped Megadef, took em to church
 I like bleach man, why you had the stupidest verse?
 This dude is the truth, now everybody's giving him guest spots
 His stock's through the roof I heard he's fuckin' with S. Dot!
 This is 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, he's sick
 And he's spitting fire
 And mike got him out the dryer he's hot
 Found him in Fort Minor with Tak
 What a fuckin' nihilist 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 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 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
 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 with 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 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,
 The kids that he signed?
 Ridiculous, without even trying,
 How did he do it?!
 Yeah! Fort Minor
 M. Shinoda - Styles of Beyond
 Ryu! Takbir! Machine Shop!