[Intro: Mike Shinoda]
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
[Chorus: Mike Shinoda]
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)
[Verse 1: Mike Shinoda]
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 makin' some noise
Makin' a story, makin' sure his clique stays up
That means when he puts it down, Tak's pickin' it up, let's go
[Verse 2: Tak]
Who the hell is he anyway? He never really talks much
Never concerned with status, but still leavin' 'em star-struck
Humbled through opportunities given despite the fact
That many misjudge him 'cause he makes a livin' from writin' raps
Put it together himself, now the picture connects
Never askin' for someone's help (Help) or to get some respect ('Spect)
He's only focused on what he wrote, his will is beyond reach
And now it all unfolds the skill of an artist
[Verse 3: Ryu]
This is twenty percent skill (Uh), eighty percent beer
Be a hundred percent clear 'cause Ryu is ill (Next)
Who would've thought he'd be the one to set the west in flames?
Then I heard him wreck it with The Crystal Method "Name of the Game" (Uh-huh)
Came back, dropped "Megadef," took 'em to church
I like "Bleach," man, Ryu had the stupidest verse (Hah)
This dude is the truth, now, everybody givin' him guest spots
His stock's through the roof, I heard he fuckin' with S. Dot
[Chorus: Mike Shinoda]
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
[Verse 4: Ryu]
They call him Ryu the Sick and he's spittin' fire with 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 wanna be with and rappers hope he gets shot
Eight years in the makin', patiently waitin' 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 kinda shit that comes out of this kid's throat
[Verse 5: Tak]
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
He often gets a comment on his name, people keep askin' him
"Was it given at birth or does it stand for an acronym?"
No, he's livin' proof (Proof), got him rockin' the booth
He'll get you buzzin' quicker than a shot of vodka with juice (Juice)
Him and his crew are known around as one of the best
Dedicated to what they do and give a hundred percent
[Verse 6: Mike Shinoda]
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 tryin', how do they do it?
[Chorus: Mike Shinoda]
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
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
[Outro: Mike Shinoda]
Yeah, Fort Minor, M. Shinoda, Styles of Beyond
Ryu, Takbir, Machine Shop