“If I was to come out with lyrics like that, I’d probably be banged up for life.”There’s further discussion about the music they don’t much care for (boy bands, cover versions, Peter Andre) and who might reasonably be described as an all-time great recording artist (Bob Marley, Madonna; definitely not Michael Jackson – the prisoners think this year’s legal woes have blown it for him) Next, Ty asks Kewba to start up a backing track. A mid-tempo instrumental with a solemn piano refrain fills the chapel. Ty wonders what sort of lyrics it might be best suited to.”Emotional,” says an inmate. “You could chat emotional lyrics to this.”"Pianos are associated with lyrics that are meaningful,” agrees Ty “They’re used to get a particular mood. Can we try right now to add something to the music?”He asks everyone to come up with an image suggested by the track. He goes round the circle.”Never lost this amount of money before.”"Black on black killing.”"Angry with himself, disrespects his mother.”"Being locked off in jail from your girl and you feel like she’s cheating on you.”Ty says the music reminds him of the recent telly advert for Sky TV, featuring Kiefer Sutherland’s Jack Bauer character from 24, sobbing alone in his car.

It gets a round of applause.Ty is pleased with the progress, and suggests that he sees a way to link the stories together to make a narrative, which they can then record over the music. One prisoner reads out a remarkable tour de force, all in rhyming couplets, that talks of finding God, asks for mercy for all “men that’s locked up in a penitentiary” and ends by liberally quoting Revelations. There’s general approval: it’s a great ad that somehow manages to say much with very little. Ty hands out pens and paper and asks everyone to write down a similarly filmic scenario, something they’ve thought of, suggested by the background music.Getting a group of 14 blokes to give something of themselves to each other isn’t easy, never mind that they happen to be in a place of worship, inside a prison Some don’t much care for the idea But Ty ekes a bit of creative writing out of everyone. He goes round the circle again, and the inmates read out tales of burying their mother, of losing both their best friend and girlfriend the day they went to prison and of how drug abuse ruptured their family.

I’m not going to get you up here break-dancing and spinning around. Nobody has to take their top off and run around like Tupac.”By the end of the working day – which is 4.30pm, followed by exercise, food, then cells – Ty wants everyone to have contributed lyrics and sung on a track, which he’ll record. Its sole stained-glass window is barred.Quite whether rapping in a chapel qualifies as suitable is a moot point But it’s certainly a big enough venue. Chairs are arranged in a vague semi-circle, and 14 prisoners – twenty- and thirty-somethings of all shapes, sizes and races – shuffle in, wearing tracksuit bottoms, T-shirts and trainers.Though they’ve been selected for this exercise after signing their names on a list, Ty’s first task is to make sure everyone’s on the same page: “I’m not expecting a gold record on the wall.

A stand-alone building situated between A and G wings, it’s the size of a Tesco Metro and decked out with pews and yellowing copies of Christian Aid News. Ty explains that he never sets restrictions on lyrical content and today will be no exception. But it’s also a genre with words and storytelling as its backbone; one that connects with people in a way that, say, trying to write a song in the style of U2 would not. I’ve never had to prove myself in a prison.”Rap is, of course, the genre of music most readily associated with illegal goings on. In the past couple of weeks, for instance, there’s been a huge fuss over 50 Cent’s upcoming film Get Rich Or Die Tryin’, a biopic that may or may not glamorise the New York rapper’s experiences as a drug dealer, during which time, famously, he was shot nine times.

And you don’t have to be Tim Westwood to know that rap’s given the world plenty of songs unlikely to be aired at any policemen’s balls: “Cop Killer”, “Fuck Tha Police” and “911 is a Joke” among them. (One of his teaching sessions, broadcast on Radio 1, was shortlisted for a Sony Gold Award, the Oscars of UK broadcasting.) A stout man with black-rimmed specs, goatee and dress-down Adidas and jeans, he’ll quickly prove himself to be an inspirational tutor.”Prisons are actually easier than youth workshops,” Ty explains. “These are grown men who’ve worked hard for the opportunity to be in the room They have a set amount of time and they don’t waste it. He said: “When we get to the situation where there is evidence that might prevent a future atrocity and we have suspicions that evidence might be obtained from torture, well I think we have to use that evidence.