Beat Poet Die Anna Wrote:Mary had a little Lambo
Its fenders ran with blood
and every race that Mary ran
she killed whene'r she could.

Beat Poet Die Anna Wrote:You've heard of Mary's little Lambo
You've heard about her wicked ways
of killing her opponents off
That way she'd always win the race

But did you know? She crashed her Lambo
Piled into a cement wall.
She won't be winning any races
Bloody Mary took a fall.

She was in the pole position
Nine behind her, grim and mean
Had their pedals to the metal
Took off as the lights turned green

Like a launching Saturn rocket
Like a bullet from a gun
All ten engines screaming murder
That was how the race begun.

There, along side Max's Junkyard
started they on level straight
then caught some air, but coming on hard
was a turn too sharp to make.

Coming at the speed of slaughter
Mary tried to turn, to drift
moving faster than she ought'er
should have braked, thrown a down-shift

Not for her, the cautious tack, it
has no place within her heart
Now her funeral's closed-casket
weighted with some old junk parts.

Still, it was a bitchin' Lambo
Still, her winning streak was long
Dead yet she is now immortal
Mary lives, enshrined in song.