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This journey starts six ago in a run down housin' estate
In bow East London, south east UK, was a man
Lets call young man, Ray
wiv bein' 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 it was a bargain and it was a good'en

And he to himself, "Who wouldn't?"
Why not, then he took a trot to DJ Targets squat
Stood outside the and knocked
Asked what jungle 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 little click, were hot
gun soldiers but it all flopped
Still it didn't make Ray wanna give up the

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

Broke shit down, brung another new
Made in the back room
Teacher gave him a new spare
Then got a little bit o'radio airtime

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

concerned wiv you know, the grime
Made it a difficult to shine
Among these so called underground
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 dramas along the way
But he stood firm, on wiv the wordplay
Went through along the way

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