So, a few days ago I was engaged in the tedious and mundane process of clipping my nose hair when the random thought struck me of Shakespeare meeting Sir Mix-A-Lot. As I stood there in front of the mirror the words began to form. This is the result:

“Hark and call upon the Lord, Rebecca! Gaze thine eyes upon yonder maiden’s buttocks. ‘Tis enormous.”

I covet enormous buttocks
And I cannot forswear
The brotherhood must aver
Yond at which hour a wench walks in with an attenuated figure
And a round thing in thy visage
Thee receiveth sprung.
Thee wanteth to pull up tough
For thee notice yond buttocks wast stuffed
Mine cater-cousins did tryeth to warn me
Alas yond buttocks thee hath’t maketh me wanteth to fornicate
For I am long and I am stout
And I am down to receiveth the friction on
So comrades, comrades doest thy girlfriend hath’t buttocks
Telleth that lady to shake ‘t, shake ‘t, Shake yond healthy buttocks
Baby did get back
Baby did get back
Baby did get back
Baby did get back
LA visage with Oakland buttocks
LA visage with Oakland buttocks
LA visage with Oakland buttocks
So ladies, ladies if ‘t be true
Thee wanteth to roll in mine Mercedes
Then turn ’round stick ‘t out
Coequal white boys did get to shout
Baby did get back
Baby did get back
Baby did get back
Baby did get back dram in the middle,
Alas the lady did get much back dram in the middle,
Alas the lady did get much back dram in the middle,
Alas the lady did get much back
Baby did get back, back, back