Lyrics Alphabet Insanity - Mac Lethal

Alphabet Insanity

I adamantly attack the alphabet
With an anecdotal algorithm made of Adamantium.
I’m like an Adderrall-addicted anaconda or an alcoholic or an asshole like
A-Rod, no anabolics.
But I brutally and beautifully butcher the banging beat.
Brushing bubbly all over your booby and booty beef,
'Cause I’m a carpenter — I come carving your carcass.
Leaving all these carp fish crushed on the carpet.
Crumbling chron in Colorado with my Cal cronies.
I’m cramming it full of condiments like it’s a Calzone.
Delicious!
I didn’t drive and drink.
Whether diamonds or dimes, man, I’m diving deep like an electric eel.
I’m elegantly eloquent, and every cent I’ve ever earned just entered me in the
election.
I got eleven brains like an enormously educated Einstein with Elephantitis of
the erection.
A freak!
I’m fighting with a flatfooted felon.
Five falcons just flew to a fountain and fell in.
Googling googly-eyed girls to get inside.
Golly gee from Glasgow to Guatemala’s gentrified.
A hippopotamus is high on heroin, he heckles me,
And hires Haitian Hank to hand his ho a hysterectomy.
In hateful hieroglyph I hurl out hyperbolic hubris,
And hang with Hipster Helen, that’s the hooker with the huge hips.
I’m ill.
I’m Icarus.
I ignite idiots in idioms and issues.
Jumpy jargon I joust like Jacare jiving Japanese judo and jiu-jitsu.
Killing them like a kid, got a kilogram of ketamine for Kwanzaa.
Knit a kimono made of komodo dragon skin.
Rich like a Klingon that be kicking it at the Kremlin,
But I’m kicking through your door, call me Kramer Kardashian.
Lethal.
Literally litter a little limerick that be littler than a Leprechaun.
A menace that’ll manifest the melancholy mayhem,
Making a metamorphosis until I’m mechanized like Megatron.
Nick Nolte, a nerdy native of Nebraska, needs a neon ninja and a nectarine from
NASA.
Ominously, I mean it’s obvious you see a orthodontist oozing out oodles of
onomatopoeias.
Oswalt Patton picking a pocket, plucking a patent.
I pickle purple poop in Patron for pure passion.
I got a question, got to quiz ya:
Let’s step on the gas and go quicker.
Uh.
Really getting ready for the revolution.
Reeled a rotten rhythm ring around the Russian Ronda Rousey resort.
Serve a simple sentiment, a simile that’s smoking like a sheet of Sudafed.
I’m swiftly swimming like a seahorse.
Titties on Atilla tell a teller that’ll toe-tag.
Terminator gun inside a turtle-tattered tote bag.
Thugs are Un-American, unattractive and unwanted as an ugly pair of UGGs.
Vivid and vivaciously venomous with the wicked wombats only walking where women
is.
Getting xenophobic at the Xanadu.
XOXO, yippee-ki-yay.
Yours truly, Mac.
Yes, yo!
Oh, shit, I forgot Z… zebra.