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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
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 took a little trot to DJ Targets
Stood outside the and knocked
Asked what jungle you got?

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

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

Broke shit down, another new flow
Made beats in the back
Teacher gave him a new spare
Then they got a bit o'radio airtime

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

concerned wiv you know, the grime
Made it a difficult to shine
Among these so called 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 dramas along the way
But he stood firm, pressed on wiv the
Went through along the way

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