So, just doing the compilation editing ...
The legend lives on from the Amazon on down
Of the big guy that Kent called El Grande
Twice as big as a tree, with a vertical of three
Whopping inches, he was often called Andre
With a load on the floor, 330 pounds or more,
The Almeida could not make a layup.
That big ship, it seems, stored too much in its seams,
And was beached on the bench, it couldn’t stay up
As tall as he was wide, there was no place to hide
When he hit the buffets in Wisconsin
As big eaters go he was bigger than most
And he liked fried potaters well seasoned
As suppertime waned, the old cook came on court
sayin' "Andre, there's no more to feed ya."
At 7 p.m., with his stomach growlin'
Andre said "then I'll just have to eat ya."
Coach Miles signaled in he was puttin' Andre in
And the wood in the floor was in peril
But with the game tight, after foulin' left and right
Came the wreck of the Andre Almeida
Does anyone know where the leftovers go
When Andre raids the fridge after hours?
The experts all say they'd have let Andre play
If he'd shed 50 more pounds behind him.