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

Until one day gathered up change
And in got turntables off Tony
Not only, they whack, they were 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 outside the and knocked
Asked what records you got?

Must be somethin' you wanna get shot, of,
buy beats, he ready to quit, gave him the whole lot
Then Ray had click, they 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 excluded
No gifts and included
Like for money, dough, crime pays, didn't ya know?
Even though Ray come slow

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

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

More concerned wiv you know, the
Made it a touch difficult to
Among so called underground stars
resented him thus presentin' him with pure dumbness like retards

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

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