This journey starts six years ago in a run down housin' estate
In bow East London, south east UK, was a young man
Lets call this young man, Ray
Frustrated wiv bein' around the way would say, "I'm bored"
Until one day gathered up some change
And in exchange got turntables off Tony
Not only, were they whack, they were wooden
But he took 'em 'cos it was a bargain and it was a good'en
And he said to himself, "Who wouldn't?"
Why not, then he took a little trot to DJ Targets squat
Stood outside the door and knocked
Asked what jungle records you got?
Must be somethin' you wanna get shot, of, blot
Din't buy beats, he ready to quit, gave him the whole lot
Then Ray had little click, they were hot
Young gun soldiers but it all flopped
Still it didn't make Ray wanna give up the fight
Ray jus picked up the mic, would write, lyrics while excluded
No gifts and glamor included
Like crime for
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