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{*a parody of the Beck song "Loser"*}

In a store full of heath food you buy the crap
Twenty little fixes of cancer in a pack
With a college tuition`s worth of taxes placed on `em all
Russian Roulette, you and the Surgeon General
Kill the lungs and the throat and the head
Cigarette flamin` with a loser on the other end
Don`t have a match so you use a blow torch
It`s forty below and you`re smokin` on the front porch
Don`t cry to me when you`re buried down beneath
Go away and try to hide the yellow stain on your teeth
You don`t believe that it`s bad for you, mac
Well I challenge you to run a couple laps around the track
So stuff your face with a nicotine pack
But save a couple bucks for the day you have a heart attack
Yo, smoke it
Smoke Eight packs a day
I`m a smoker, baby
So why don`t you kill me (repeat)
(Puffin` on a Death Rod)

Wrinkles on faces from an all-day puff out
Toxic waste pourin` out of your mouth
I wonder why you like to smoke and you say you like the taste
Well, do you also like rancid meat and human waste
Sittin` there lookin` like a human exhaust pipe
Blow it in my face and I`ll punch out your lights
So much smoke it`s like your brain is in a fog
Listen to your voice you sound like a dyin` frog
Gotta have a smoke with every meal, every breath
You`ll be buried with a carton when you`re curled up at death
Which`ll be here sooner than you thought
If you keep puffin`, and chokin` on a filter
Smoke And nicotine
My throat`s decaying
So why don`t you kill me (repeat)
(Get crazy with the menthol)
(Brain dead smoke addict)

Yo, break it on down Smoke...

Smoke Eight packs a day
I`m a smoker baby
So why don`t you kill me
(I`m a nicotine idiot)
[cough]

{*a parody of the Beck song "Loser"*}

In a store full of heath food you buy the crap
Twenty little fixes of cancer in a pack
With a college tuition`s worth of taxes placed on `em all
Russian Roulette, you and the Surgeon General
Kill the lungs and the throat and the head
Cigarette flamin` with a loser on the other end
Don`t have a match so you use a blow torch
It`s forty below and you`re smokin` on the front porch
Don`t cry to me when you`re buried down beneath
Go away and try to hide the yellow stain on your teeth
You don`t believe that it`s bad for you, mac
Well I challenge you to run a couple laps around the track
So stuff your face with a nicotine pack
But save a couple bucks for the day you have a heart attack
Yo, smoke it
Smoke Eight packs a day
I`m a smoker, baby
So why don`t you kill me (repeat)
(Puffin` on a Death Rod)

Wrinkles on faces from an all-day puff out
Toxic waste pourin` out of your mouth
I wonder why you like to smoke and you say you like the taste
Well, do you also like rancid meat and human waste
Sittin` there lookin` like a human exhaust pipe
Blow it in my face and I`ll punch out your lights
So much smoke it`s like your brain is in a fog
Listen to your voice you sound like a dyin` frog
Gotta have a smoke with every meal, every breath
You`ll be buried with a carton when you`re curled up at death
Which`ll be here sooner than you thought
If you keep puffin`, and chokin` on a filter
Smoke And nicotine
My throat`s decaying
So why don`t you kill me (repeat)
(Get crazy with the menthol)
(Brain dead smoke addict)

Yo, break it on down Smoke...

Smoke Eight packs a day
I`m a smoker baby
So why don`t you kill me
(I`m a nicotine idiot)
[cough]

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