[Chorus]nKnock knock who's there? DizzeenDizzee who? RasnAnd I kick assnKill a MC fastnKnock knock who's there? BadnBad who? BoynI'm here to annoynTake away your joynKnock knock who's there? JacknJack who? YounYour not with your crewnWhat you gunna donKnock knock who's there? BignBig who? GunnPoint me to the sunnWatch your fassy runnI'm dizzee ras nightmare from the big E A S TnI'm exactly what your parent don't want to see on your tvnI nicely, precisely intimadate anyone that I choosenRefuse to to losenExpress unlimited contriversial viewsnYour average boy or girl on the street might be familiar with my beatnAnd/or familiar with my sound, I'm formerly from the undergroundnAnd its clear, for a year, I've been turing up the heatnMade you get up and out of your seatnShake your fists and shuffle your feetnAnd now I'm herenLets make another thing clear [Overlaps here on previous line]nThey didn't bun me up enough I'm still herenSo what was the perpose of your little charade, your little charade was whacknJust about hurt menYou should of merked menI was on a rampage now I'm backnFive stab woundsnCouple scratches, bruises and some painsnFour half-hearted fassiesnFour poor is no brainsnDid itnTwo weeks before my album came out helped me sell doublenBut lets not dwell on that, its the least of your troublesn[Chorus]nEh yo consideringnThe part I play, you wouldn't expect for me me to say I prefer the day to nights where I gottanturn up and playnI rip-off, dusty, sweaty, clotter raisednAnd the audience, all screw faced, and promoters don't want to paynAnd half of the boys in the croud want to blast menAnd half of the girls want to show how little they care about standing right there at the front,ntryin t? look right past menIt gets depressing thinking bout it even morenKnowing that I'm gonna face the usual hassle at the doornBecause as well as lippy hags, I hate cocky bouncersnI ain't here to rave I'm here to get paid looknYou search me up rough like I'm any common crooknMy names on the flyer man, forget the guest booknAbusing your athority you look like a foolnYou faulty standard, underdog, you know your own toolnI ain't wearin certain shoes so you don't think I look right (what?)nthat's cushdy mate, I'm gettin paid more than you tonightn[Chorus]