First Rate Smokes

My[C] name is Seymo[D]ur Green
I'm an[G] honest business man
I[C] make First Ra[D]te Smokes
From a[G] warehouse in my van
[C]I've had some[D] troubles
[G]With the EPA
I [C]change my compa[D]ny name
[G]Every other day
I [C]hire out [D]workers
From Ke[G]ntucky factories
Who [C]spend their day[D]s working for
R.J. R[G]eynolds Industries
They[C] find me in th[D]e parking lot
When the[G] factory whistle blows
And we[C] roll up all [D]the tobacco
That gets[G] stuck between their toes

[C]Take off your[D] shoes
It's [G]time to go to work
It's [C]3[D]am and w[G]e're setting up shop
[C]Take off your[D] socks
Start[G] scraping those nails
If th[C]e A[D]TF discovers us
It's [G]GPCs from jail

I'm in cahoots with some Canucks
Just above the borderline
They package all my products
With cute logos and designs
I distribute to truck stops
And small town liquor stores
They buy cases of cartons
And call me up for more

Thrifty smokers don't mind
Where their cigarettes are from
All they really want
Is smoke and tar in their lungs
So if you ever buy a pack
Of First Rate Smokes
You know the tar won't kill you
But the smell will make you choke