MC Will The Shakespeare Rap by Michael Swaim (MS Werd) Lyrics
Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears
I come praising language, the word perseveres
Bury thy fears, our salvation draws near
Bardric badass Billy D. Shakespeare
Has mastered with haste iambic pentameter
Such that the chastest examiner
Enamored must become like yon spring that has sprung
Should they perchance glance askance at a three-layer pun?
Spun by that lord of linguistic contortion
Shines his light freely thou ungreedy whoreson
Yet greedy he was when his tongue was a-portioned
Such silver his mouth now amounts to a fortune
If rhythm be the root of rap, play on
I'll stay on that route like Stratford-upon-Avon
Enraptured by verse that can bless or can curse
Cast the best as the worst and napalm upon Akon
My man with the cape here takes the cake, dear
Y'all know his name, it's William motherfucking Shakespeare
Put your hands in the air like your cares are nill
Then put them together for MC Will
I'll take on all challenges to his identity
Shallow and callous, such a double indemnity
A pox on thy palace, plague upon thy serenity
Oh enmitous entity, thou art mine enemy
Yet prithee, on bended knee, wilt thou befriended be?
Thy injuries healed to the shining light of civility?
As Logan, The Atom, and snikt battling villainy
Think only this and all wilt be remedied
Whoe'er it was the age had crowned king
Didst pause to posit that the play's the thing
And if what counts is truly just the thought
Start counting now, this hide's not easily sought
Nor is it cheaply bought
His lines were designed and conceived to be deeply fraught
Wreathed with a series of uniquely wrought ravines
Contusions that may cause you confusion
But keep the plot and soon enough you'll reap a bountiful crop
Earn your spot on the cord of the grand order of hip-hop
When thou ponderest all thou could 'speare couldst not
Pray you ain't groom of the stool, cause his shit is hot
With a wit like a rapier, he'll make your pate cheer
Y'all know his name, it's William motherfucking Shakespeare
Spread your hands wide if you're feeling smart
And if you're struggling, Midsummer Night's Dream's an accessible start
In closing, may I restate my thesis?
If Will walked the streets today, he'd rip this hip-hop game to pieces
He's as similar to me as my genes are to a Reese's
Oh what brave new words of his my brain's caught in its creases
He could spit into a mic tonight, expect to rate a ten
Reciting rhymes the likes of which would make the choir cry, "Amen!"
Like modern kith and kin, he wasn't satisfied with skin
Used wordplay to worm his way to the truth that lurks within
Though he mostly composed in the vernacular
Like hot hot heat heat a knack for
Inventing words so spectacular
That they broke grammatical chattelry and hove perpendacular
To Twitter tags of his time that were trending
When he wasn't getting busy with the feminine ending
So if there's Facebook in heaven once I'm dead and ascending
There's at least one MC I know I'll be friending
No, not in the Shakespearean sense
I hear you're in for a pound if you go in for a pence
And while evidence suggests he may have sat on the fencepost
For my own part, I found that country fashion can sense, so
I just might fake queer, hold his face near
Whisper in his gay ear, "I love you Will Shakespeare"
Put your hands apart if I made you feel weird
Then contract them and clap for the bald bard with the beard
I come praising language, the word perseveres
Bury thy fears, our salvation draws near
Bardric badass Billy D. Shakespeare
Has mastered with haste iambic pentameter
Such that the chastest examiner
Enamored must become like yon spring that has sprung
Should they perchance glance askance at a three-layer pun?
Spun by that lord of linguistic contortion
Shines his light freely thou ungreedy whoreson
Yet greedy he was when his tongue was a-portioned
Such silver his mouth now amounts to a fortune
If rhythm be the root of rap, play on
I'll stay on that route like Stratford-upon-Avon
Enraptured by verse that can bless or can curse
Cast the best as the worst and napalm upon Akon
My man with the cape here takes the cake, dear
Y'all know his name, it's William motherfucking Shakespeare
Put your hands in the air like your cares are nill
Then put them together for MC Will
I'll take on all challenges to his identity
Shallow and callous, such a double indemnity
A pox on thy palace, plague upon thy serenity
Oh enmitous entity, thou art mine enemy
Yet prithee, on bended knee, wilt thou befriended be?
Thy injuries healed to the shining light of civility?
As Logan, The Atom, and snikt battling villainy
Think only this and all wilt be remedied
Whoe'er it was the age had crowned king
Didst pause to posit that the play's the thing
And if what counts is truly just the thought
Start counting now, this hide's not easily sought
Nor is it cheaply bought
His lines were designed and conceived to be deeply fraught
Wreathed with a series of uniquely wrought ravines
Contusions that may cause you confusion
But keep the plot and soon enough you'll reap a bountiful crop
Earn your spot on the cord of the grand order of hip-hop
When thou ponderest all thou could 'speare couldst not
Pray you ain't groom of the stool, cause his shit is hot
With a wit like a rapier, he'll make your pate cheer
Y'all know his name, it's William motherfucking Shakespeare
Spread your hands wide if you're feeling smart
And if you're struggling, Midsummer Night's Dream's an accessible start
In closing, may I restate my thesis?
If Will walked the streets today, he'd rip this hip-hop game to pieces
He's as similar to me as my genes are to a Reese's
Oh what brave new words of his my brain's caught in its creases
He could spit into a mic tonight, expect to rate a ten
Reciting rhymes the likes of which would make the choir cry, "Amen!"
Like modern kith and kin, he wasn't satisfied with skin
Used wordplay to worm his way to the truth that lurks within
Though he mostly composed in the vernacular
Like hot hot heat heat a knack for
Inventing words so spectacular
That they broke grammatical chattelry and hove perpendacular
To Twitter tags of his time that were trending
When he wasn't getting busy with the feminine ending
So if there's Facebook in heaven once I'm dead and ascending
There's at least one MC I know I'll be friending
No, not in the Shakespearean sense
I hear you're in for a pound if you go in for a pence
And while evidence suggests he may have sat on the fencepost
For my own part, I found that country fashion can sense, so
I just might fake queer, hold his face near
Whisper in his gay ear, "I love you Will Shakespeare"
Put your hands apart if I made you feel weird
Then contract them and clap for the bald bard with the beard