You ready?

Let's go!

Yeah

For those of you who want to know what we're all about

It's like this y'all

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!

He doesn't need his name up in lights

He just wants to be heard whether it's the beat of the mic

He feels so unlike everybody else, alone

In spite of the fact people still think that they know him

But fuck them, he knows the code

It's not about the salary

It's all about reality and making some noise

Makin' the story, makin' sure the clique stays up

That means when he put it down, Tak's pickin' it up!

Who the hell is he anyway?

He never really talks much

Unconcerned with status (but still leavin' them star struck)

Humbled through opportunities given to him despite the fact

That many misjudge him

He makes a livin' from writin' raps

(Now put it together) Now the picture connects

(Never askin' for someone's help) 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 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'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 get a comment on his name

People keep askin' him was it given at birth

Or does it stand for an acronym?

(No) He's living proof, Got him 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 doin', givin' a hundred percent

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

Those motherfuckers he runs with, with the kids that he signed

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

Eight years in the makin', waiting to blow

Now the record with the Virgins 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 throat

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!