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

Until one day gathered up some
And in exchange got turntables off
Not only, were whack, they were 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 to DJ Targets squat
Stood the door and knocked
Asked what records you got?

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

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 come slow

Broke down, brung another new flow
beats in the back room
Teacher gave him a new spare
Then they got a little bit o'radio

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

concerned wiv you know, the grime
Made it a touch difficult to
Among so called underground stars
Some resented him thus him with pure dumbness like retards

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

But he stoof firm, on wiv the wordplay
through dramas along the way
Let's a look at Ray today, today, today
Showtime, showtime