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

Until one day gathered up some
And in exchange got turntables off
Not only, were they whack, they were
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 trot to DJ Targets
outside the door and knocked
Asked what jungle records you

Must be somethin' you 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 but it all flopped
Still it didn't Ray wanna give up the fight

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

Broke down, brung another new flow
Made beats in the back
Teacher him a new spare time
Then they got a little bit o'radio

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

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

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

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