You ready?! Let's go!
Yeah, for those of you that wanna 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 nameHe 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 making some noise
Making a story, making sure his clique stays up
That means when he puts it down, Tak's pickin' it upWho the hell is he anyway, he never really talks much
Never concerned with status but still leavin' them star struck
Humbled through opportunities given despite the fact
That many misjudge him because he makes a livin' 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 artistThis is twenty percent skill, eighty percent beer
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
Then heard him wreckin' with The Crystal Method, Name Of The Game
Came back, dropped Megadef, took 'em to church
I like bleach, man, Ryu had 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-DotThis 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 nameThey call him Ryu he's sick, and he's spittin' 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 women 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 won't believe the kind of shit that comes out of this kid's throatHe's not your every day on the block
He knows how to work with what he's got
Makin' 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 livin' proof that he 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 do and give a hundred percentForget 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 do they do it?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 nameThis 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 nameYeah
Fort Minor
M-Shinoda
Styles of Beyond
Ryu
Takbir
Machine Shop
Songwriters
MIKE SHINODA, MATTHEW RYAN MAGINN, TAKBIR KHALID BASHIRPublished by
Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group Song Discussions is protected by U.S. Patent 9401941. Other patents pending.