Michael Swaim (MS Werd) - MC Will (The Shakespeare Rap) lyrics

Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears I come praising language, the word perseveres Bury thy fears, our salvation draws near Bardric bada** 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 who*eson 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 motherf**ing 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 sh** is hot With a wit like a rapier, he'll make your pate cheer Y'all know his name, it's William motherf**ing 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