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

Until one day gathered up some
And in got turntables off Tony
Not only, they 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 a little trot to DJ Targets squat
Stood the door and knocked
what jungle records you got?

Must be somethin' you get shot, of, blot
Din't buy beats, he ready to quit, gave him the lot
Ray had little click, they were hot
Young gun 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
crime for money, dough, crime pays, didn't ya know?
Even though Ray come slow

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

1:00 A.M. till 3, be in by 9
This was clearly a positive
Learnin' 'bout beats, breaks and
chat about champagne and cars

More wiv you know, the grime
Made it a difficult to shine
these so called underground stars
Some resented him thus presentin' him with pure dumbness like

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

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