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This journey six years ago in a run down housin' estate
In bow East London, east UK, was a young man
Lets call young man, Ray
Frustrated wiv bein' around the way 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 a little trot to DJ Targets squat
Stood the door and knocked
Asked what jungle records you

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

Ray jus picked up the mic, would write, lyrics while
No and glamor included
Like crime for money, dough, crime pays, ya know?
Even Ray come across slow

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

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

More concerned wiv you know, the
Made it a difficult to shine
Among these so called stars
Some resented him thus presentin' him with pure dumbness 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, pressed on wiv the
Went dramas along the way

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