Goldie Lookin Chain - Wrecked Up lyrics

.....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 draw Next thing I know, he's asleep on the floor What's goin' on? I just had a bong I feels light headed, this can't last for long If you can't take the blow then I think you better leave I think you better know and you better believe This kid's serious, I gotta go home I look really mashed, I'm as white as a bone I'm all mashed up just like Eddie Kid I can't move my arms and i feel like a flid Look at you, clart, you're in a right fukin' state I can't believe you just chucked up over my mate I told you not to have that last fukin' hit And your leisuresuit smells of fukin' sh** Get out the house and fuk off home You stupid twat, that was a pure skunk cone It's not clever to get wrecked and have sh** dripping out of your a** Now my name's P Xain and I smoke for Britain But I smoked a bud and now I'm trippin' I feel fukin' wicked like Terry Wogan Like Crocodile Dundee 2's Paul Hogan I'm fukin' mashed, I needs to go home I feels fukin' wrecked and I'm white like a bone I gotta lie down, I gotta do it soon If I don't do it fast then I'm gonna puke in the room I smokes loads of weed, I'm on my fukin' knees All I need now is a quarter pounder with cheese! I needs to put my jacket on and get my trouser suit But I can't pick up my trainers coz I've been sniffing glue I've been smokin' a bong for far too fukin' long Coz after a while, I feels like a mong So pack that chong and give me a hit Hussain's tracksuit never smells of dog sh** I smoked half a pound of Li-Ganga's fukin' gear So go fuk yourself if you says that I'm a queer Give me a phone coz I'm going fukin' numb I gotta get back or my nan will start to moan So see you boys soon, laters clarts I'm off to pull some Newport fukin' tarts Shout to your neighbours, shout to the ravers Shout to the people who do loads of favours For you, and the GLC crew Safe as fuk, you knows it Time to go home, son Fukin' time for the taxi to come I said this kid's right, I gotta get home I feels really mashed, I'm white as a bone I gotta get out but I can't fukin' move sh**, that draw's strong, I've bust my groove Shout out to Carl from Risca, he knows he's safe, He knows the score coz you knows he sells me the fukin' draw G-G-G-Goldie lookin' chain Goldie lookin' chain Respect to all the people who've got a bit mashed in the past and dirtied themselves and had to go and clean themselves up