Majic Dusty - Goldie Lookin Chain

I goes out at night, in my glad rags

Selling some to posh kids, prozzies and fags

I do’s a few spoons to get me in the mood

I never do too much cos that makes you rude

Cos that’s the trouble when you do too much

You get a big mouth, start to lose touch

You act all hard, gettin' louder and louder

It’s no fuckin' wonder they call it wacko powder

Dust!

Majic dusty!

Majic dust!

Majic dusty!

My frontal lobes, have fucking turned black

And when your??

s gone you cant never get it back

Pulls things out my nose that look like bits of flan

So sometimes I wash 'em up and smoke 'em on a can

Started in lines, chronic fuckin' times

Got a fuckin' blizzard blowing through my mind

This dirty fuckin' habit’s costin' me a fuckin' mint

Blew my cash on the blower now I’m really fuckin' skint

Dust!

Majic dusty!

Majic dust!

Majic dusty!

dusty!

dusty!

She don’t like, she don’t like, she don’t like cocaine

I never saw a woman fuckin' complain

Like the pale skinny girl over there, she don’t care

She likes to play head games but fuckin' beware

She’s really fuckin' off it, look at her eyes

Give her half a gram and she’ll open her thighs

But leave her alone if I was you brother

Cos she’s not the kind of girl you can take home to your mother

Dust!

Majic dusty!

Majic dust!

Majic dusty!

I knows you knows, if you knows what I mean

All this majic dusty, the most I’ve ever seen

I really got to stop, taking this shit

I really fuckin' want to but it’s hard to quit

This cocaine scene is full of false fuckers

I’d rather deal with people fucked up on pukkas

So it’s ta-ra posh, I need a fuckin' rest

Back to sellin' mary jane and fuckin' flat press

Dust!

Majic dusty!

Majic dust!

Majic dusty, dusty, dusty

Yeah, I got 3 grams of Tony Montana, 2 grams of Jody Kidd, 4 grams of Kate Moss,

and an eccy…

Yeah, my mate had cocaine, and he took all of 'em… My mate took 'em,

and there was all white foam round his mouth like Mumm-Ra from, er, Lion-O