Songtext Knock, knock Dizzee Rascal

Knock, knock

[Chorus]
Knock knock who’s there? Dizzee
Dizzee who? Ras
And I kick ass
Kill a MC fast
Knock knock who’s there? Bad
Bad who? Boy
I’m here to annoy
Take away your joy
Knock knock who’s there? Jack
Jack who? You
Your not with your crew
What u gunna do
Knock knock who’s there? Big
Big who? Gun
Point me to the sun
Watch your fassy run
I’m dizzee ras nightmare from the big E A S T
I’m exactly what your parent don’t want to see on your tv
I nicely, precisely intimadate anyone that I choose
Refuse to to lose
Express unlimited contriversial views
Your average boy or girl on the street might be familiar with my beat
And/or familiar with my sound, I’m formerly from the underground
And its clear, for a year, I’ve been turing up the heat
Made you get up and out of your seat
Shake your fists and shuffle your feet
And now I’m here
Lets make another thing clear [Overlaps here on previous line]
They didn’t bun me up enough I’m still here
So what was the perpose of your little charade, your little charade was whack
Just about hurt me
You should of merked me
I was on a rampage now I’m back
Five stab wounds
Couple scratches, bruises and some pains
Four half-hearted fassies
Four poor is no brains
Did it
Two weeks before my album came out helped me sell double
But lets not dwell on that, its the least of your troubles

[Chorus]

Eh yo considering
The part I play, you wouldn’t expect for me me to say I prefer the day to nights where I gotta
turn up and play
I rip-off, dusty, sweaty, clotter raised
And the audience, all screw faced, and promoters don’t want to pay
And half of the boys in the croud wanna blast me
And half of the girls wanna show how little they care about standing right there at the front,
tryin t’ look right past me
It gets depressing thinking bout it even more
Knowing that I’m gonna face the usual hassle at the door
Because as well as lippy hags, I hate cocky bouncers
I ain’t here to rave I’m here to get paid look
You search me up rough like im any common crook
My names on the flyer man, forget the guest book
Abusing your athority you look like a fool
You faulty standard, underdog, you know your own tool
I aint wearin certain shoes so you don’t think I look right (what?)
Thats cushdy mate, I’m gettin paid more than you tonight

[Chorus]