Introduction I hate bullshit books. I’ve read a lot of biographies. Most of them are boring. I don’t want to put out the same old story: ‘Oh I grew up on an east London estate, mans was getting shot every week, rah rah rah.’

Sadly, I almost wish this book would have taken notes from prior autobiographies. If it really is an autobiography, it's so hagiographic that Wiley has actually interviewed family, friends, and others to create a picture of himself as a boy-from-the-ghetto-fought-up-got-fame person.Some of the stuff in this book is lovely, e.g.:

Back then, it was all about the scene. There was a proper scene, and we were all trying to get into it. But we were all kids, really. We loved it, and they obviously showed appreciation to us for loving it, but we weren’t really in it. Jungle kept it tight. Like they didn’t care about major labels, they don’t jump up for man, they weren’t gassed about anything. They were feet-on-the-floor people. You can’t just go in jungle and bust one tune then go clear. It didn’t really work like that. You had to keep going and keep going. I respected them for that. Most other scenes are really disposable. That was the start, in a way. It was the first time I realised that we could do this. We didn’t really need anybody else. We had decks, we had the mic, we had the radio. Didn’t need to wait for anyone, impress anyone, push anyone. Just us.

Wiley's style is interesting, mainly because of his storytelling ease, which does get grating at times as it's spoken well, but does not look good on the page:

People got kidnapped, held for two weeks under the bed. People getting carjacked, people getting chased down the street. It’s just street stuff. Things like that were going on all the time. That world is a bit dark. It can happen for any reason. This one doesn’t like that one. If you associate with someone that someone else doesn’t like, you can get dragged in. A lot of that happens. The streets are crazy. No matter how bad you are, you can’t avoid it. There are no rules. There’s no ring, no boxing gloves. It’s more dangerous than anything. You can get rushed by ten man, twenty man, thirty man. You can get shot, stabbed, hit with a hammer. Anything. Not just London, either. Anywhere.

Also, the sheer level of braggadocio that goes into nearly every page is tiring, and it doesn't matter that he's not saying that himself. If I were to release an autobiography, and it'd not be marked by humility, that would definitely be a bad thing. Here's a quote from someone in his book:

He always had a drive and vision. He’s a good organiser. He can see the end product. That’s the similarity we have. Even if someone’s in the room and they’re being negative, it’s not about that person’s negativity. It’s about the end product. It’s seeing the end product, and putting in the work to make it happen. You can say it’s a gift, but in a way, it’s kind of spiritual. It’s like a connection you can make with someone. He played a big part in forming those crews. He could hear someone, and know whether that person would fit. We’re going back to a time when there were more crews than individuals. It was about having four, five, six MCs in your crews. What voices could fit. And he was encouraging in terms of helping people write bars. He never wasted time in the studio.

Also, a lot of simple lines like this one just add to the bad taste:

‘Champagne Dance’ was everywhere in 2001, from the roads to the raves. And my verse made me an icon.

Granted, it's an interesting read at times, but just pick up another musician's tome, like U-God's "RAW: My Journey Into The Wu-Tang" or Thomas Hauser's brilliant book on Muhammad Ali, which I'd have recommended Wiley to read before writing this book. More humility equals a better book, regardless of your past.