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This journey six years ago in a run down housin' estate
In bow London, south east UK, was a young man
call this young man, Ray
Frustrated wiv bein' the way would say, "I'm bored"

one day gathered up some change
And in got turntables off Tony
Not only, were they whack, they wooden
But he took 'em 'cos it was a and it was a good'en

And he to himself, "Who wouldn't?"
Why not, then he took a little trot to DJ squat
Stood the door and knocked
Asked what jungle you got?

Must be somethin' you wanna get shot, of,
Din't buy beats, he to quit, gave him the whole lot
Then Ray had little click, they hot
Young gun soldiers but it all
Still it didn't make Ray wanna give up the

Ray jus up the mic, would write, lyrics while excluded
No and glamor included
crime for money, dough, crime pays, didn't ya know?
Even though Ray across slow

Broke shit down, another new flow
beats in the back room
Teacher gave him a new time
they got a little bit o'radio airtime

1:00 A.M. till 3, be in by 9
This was clearly a sign
'bout beats, breaks and bars
Didn't chat about and cars

More wiv you know, the grime
Made it a touch difficult to
Among these so underground stars
Some resented him presentin' him with pure dumbness like retards

It didn't matter, Ray would say, "Okay, I'm gonna be a real one day"
Went through dramas the way
But he stood firm, on wiv the wordplay
Went through along the way

But he stoof firm, pressed on wiv the
through dramas along the way
Let's take a at Ray today, today, today
Showtime, it's