Knock, Knock Lyrics - Showtime - Dizzee Rascal

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 

You're not with your crew, what you 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 

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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 it's 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, let's make another thing clear 

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 let's not dwell on that, it's the least of your troubles 

Photos 

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 

You're not with your crew, what you gunna do 

Knock, knock who? s there? Big 

Big who? Gun 

Point me to the sun, watch your fassy run 

Eh, yo considering 

The part I play, the position I'm in 

You wouldn? t expect for me me to say 

I prefer the day to nights where I gotta turn up and play ya 

Rip-off, dusty, sweaty, clotter raised 

Where 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 

By standing right there at the front tryin' to 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 authority you look like a fool 

You faulty standard, underdog, you know your own tool 

I ain't wearin' certain shoes so you don? t think I look right 

That's cushdy mate, I? m gettin' paid more than you tonight 

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 

You're not with your crew, what you gunna do 

Knock, knock who? s there? Big 

Big who? Gun 

Point me to the sun, watch your fassy run