Stormzy might be best known as the man who first took grime to No1, but, recently, as he works on a follow-up to his astonishing debut, Gang Signs & Prayer, it’s Michael Omari Jr’s philanthropic achievements that have been making headlines. From #Merky Books – a Penguin imprint set up to champion new, young writers, with Rise Up as the launch title – to the Stormzy Scholarship, a scheme that will see the musician fund black students’ education at Cambridge University, this is a man on a break-neck mission to really make a difference. Here, in this exclusive extract from his upcoming book, Rise Up: The #Merky Story So Far (edited and co-written with Jude Yawson), Stormzy talks racism, responsibility and taking Theresa May to task over Grenfell at the Brits...

I’ve had to deal with racism for a long time. I can’t control who listens to my music. I’ve had racist lads commenting from time to time. I’m going to get the problematic parody videos. I’m going to get the neeky renditions, or the neeky politicians or television personalities standing up and using my words. People are entitled to their opinions, of course. People can take what I say and claim it in some way, and I can call shit out, but I can’t control how my words are used, or what people take from my music. There are some serious issues here, but I think that what I’m doing is so new, it’s going to take a bit of time for the general public to get used to it.

Take "Shut Up". I remember so clearly the first day, the first week, the first month after it came out. That was the authentic, raw sound. It’s a Ruff Sqwad riddim, but it’s raw. It’s a bad-boy freestyle. Music is a thing you give to the world, and that’s all you can do. That’s my only job. I just have to make sure it’s excellent. People can talk shit, but I know what it is. People were telling me that grime was dead when Gang Signs & Prayer came out. Is it? Is "Big For Your Boots" not grime?

Why is it not grime? Why? Listen to the lyrics:

Wanna come round here like a bad boy? Do it Bun all the talking, go on then, do it Running through the party, bottle of Bacardi Bro’s in my ear saying, “Stormz, don’t do it” Devil on my shoulder, I don’t lack Hit ’em with a crowbar, I don’t scrap Even when I’m sober, I’m so gassed Say you ride but there’s no car and no mash

Why is that not grime?

At the end of the day, fame comes with some nonsense. It can feel vicious, and overwhelming, but let’s be real, it’s not the worst thing that I could be dealing with, is it? It’s not bad compared to what most people deal with. I know who I am. I can’t get twanged. I know I’m good.

It’s always been a beautifully confusing thing when I find myself being praised for certain things I’ve done or I’ve achieved. This is gonna sound like I’m trying to be humble or trying to sound like the ultimate nice guy, so let me be wary of how I word this. But take the Brits performance, for example. I was quite famous before, and, God willing, I’m still gonna be successful afterwards. All I did was dedicate two bars to Grenfell. I sat down and wrote something out. And, yeah, of course it’s very dismissive to reduce that whole gesture to just writing a couple of bars, of course it is. But in terms of what’s actually happened, in terms of the people who lost their lives and the people who are still suffering and the fact that the government has tried to sleep on a tragedy, it’s nothing. There’s no suffering.

As a young black man coming from the community that I come from, I recognise that I have responsibilities. If I’m going to be on stage for five minutes at the Brit Awards, I have a responsibility. Bearing in mind that not one of us has been on that stage for a very long time, if it’s ever happened. If I have five minutes, I’ve got to use that time wisely.

We live in this world. We know that racism exists. It’s getting better, maybe, but it still exists. We know that we have to work twice as hard to get anywhere. So when one of us succeeds, we have a responsibility. I’m not trying to be that corny don. I’m not on some presidential shit. I just know that no one is going to help my little brother. You can talk about things, but you have to take action. Man can go on stage and spray a two-bar about the prime minister and get a reaction. But there’s a lot more I can do. It’s a duty.

Rise Up: The #Merky Story So Far (#Merky Books, £16.99) is out in hardback on Thursday 1 November. Preorder your copy via Amazon.

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