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

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

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

Must be somethin' you get shot, of, blot
buy beats, he ready to quit, gave him the whole lot
Then Ray had click, they were hot
gun soldiers but it all flopped
Still it make Ray wanna give up the fight

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

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

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

More wiv you know, the grime
Made it a difficult to shine
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 real one day"
through dramas along the way
But he stood firm, pressed on wiv the
through dramas along the way

But he firm, pressed on wiv the wordplay
Went through along the way
take a look at Ray today, today, today
Showtime, showtime