Goldie Lookin Chain: Wrecked up

Intro:-.....Quick, get his wallet, we're off down the fukin' Spar, c'mon!Quick...draw on his face, man, draw on his face, clart.Get his willy out, get it, man, take a photo and send it to fukin' Woman's Own, haaa....Leave it, man...i'm fukin' wrecked!Ben Wa Balls came round and smoked loads of drawNext thing I know, he's asleep on the floorWhat's goin' on? I just had a bongI feels light headed, this can't last for longIf you can't take the blow then I think you better leaveI think you better know and you better believeThis kid's serious, I gotta go homeI look really mashed, I'm as white as a boneI'm all mashed up just like Eddie KidI can't move my arms and i feel like a flidLook at you, clart, you're in a right fukin' stateI can't believe you just chucked up over my mateI told you not to have that last fukin' hitAnd your leisuresuit smells of fukin' shitGet out the house and fuk off homeYou stupid twat, that was a pure skunk coneIt's not clever to get wrecked and have shit dripping out of your assNow my name's P Xain and I smoke for BritainBut I smoked a bud and now I'm trippin'I feel fukin' wicked like Terry WoganLike Crocodile Dundee 2's Paul HoganI'm fukin' mashed, I needs to go homeI feels fukin' wrecked and I'm white like a boneI gotta lie down, I gotta do it soonIf I don't do it fast then I'm gonna puke in the roomI smokes loads of weed, I'm on my fukin' kneesAll I need now is a quarter pounder with cheese!I needs to put my jacket on and get my trouser suitBut I can't pick up my trainers coz I've been sniffing glueI've been smokin' a bong for far too fukin' longCoz after a while, I feels like a mongSo pack that chong and give me a hitHussain's tracksuit never smells of dog shitI smoked half a pound of Li-Ganga's fukin' gearSo go fuk yourself if you says that I'm a queerGive me a phone coz I'm going fukin' numbI gotta get back or my nan will start to moanSo see you boys soon, laters clartsI'm off to pull some Newport fukin' tartsShout to your neighbours, shout to the raversShout to the people who do loads of favoursFor you, and the GLC crewSafe as fuk, you knows itTime to go home, sonFukin' time for the taxi to comeI said this kid's right, I gotta get homeI feels really mashed, I'm white as a boneI gotta get out but I can't fukin' moveShit, that draw's strong, I've bust my grooveShout out to Carl from Risca, he knows he's safe, He knows the score coz you knows he sells me the fukin' drawG-G-G-Goldie lookin' chainGoldie lookin' chainRespect to all the people who've got a bit mashed in the past and dirtied themselves and had to go and clean themselves up