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Are you ready?... let's go!... yeah...



For those of you who want to know what were all about... it's like this yall come on!



Its 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]

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

Its not about the salary its all about reality

And making some noise

Making a story, making sure your clique stays up

That means when he puts it down

Tak is picking it up



Who the hell is he anyway?

He never really talks much

Never concerned with status

But still leavin em starstruck

Humble through oppurtunities givin in spite of the fact

The pet name is.... because he makes a living from writing raps

Put it together himself

Got it picture perfect

Never askin for someones help, or to get some respect

His only focus is what he wrote

Even if its beyond reach

And now it'll unfold

To sit up and on seats...



Twenty percent skill

Eighty percent fear

Be hundred percent clear

Cuz ryu is ill

Who woulda thought hed 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 like bleach man

Ryu had the stupidest first

This dude is the truth

Now everybodys givin him guest spots

The stock through the roof

I heard hes fuckin' with s-dot!



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



Ryu!

They call him ryu the sick

And hes spitting fire and light

Got him out the dryer hes hot

Got him in fort minor with tak

Who the fuck, anile this porcipine

Hes a prick hes a god

The type women wanna be with but rappers hope he gets shot

8 years in the makin

Patiently waitin to blow

Now the record with shinoda's takin over the globe

Hes got a partner in crime

His shit is equally dope

You wont believe the shit that come outa of this kids throat



Tak!

Hes out there every day on the block

He knows how to work with what hes got makin his way to the top

He got vegas in common

People be gassin him

Askin him was it

You may not know, we're rockin the booth

He'll get you boys out quicker than a shot of vodka with juice

Him and his crew are thrown around, hes 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, seems like he’s never got time,

Because he writes every note,

And he writes every line,

And i’ve seen it at work when that light goes on in his mind,

It’s like a design its written in his head every time,

Before he even touches a key or speaks in a rhyme,

Those mother fuckers he runs with the kids that he signs

Ridiculous, without even trying, how do they do it?...



{ 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} 2x



Fort minor, m. shinoda, styles of beyond... ryu, takbir, cheapshot!

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