Classic Works if they were written by Snoop Dogg
Hamlet by William Shakespeare
HAMLET: To be, and not ta be--that is tha question:
Whether 'tis nobla up in tha mind ta suffer
Da slings n' arrowz of outrageous fortune
Or ta take arms against a sea of shits
And by opposin end them. To die, ta chill--
No more--and by a chill ta say our crazy asses end
Da heartache, n' tha thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to. 'Tis a cold-ass lil consummation
Devoutly ta be wished. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! To die, ta chill--
To chill--perchizzle ta dream: ay, therez tha rub,
For up in dat chill of dirtnap what tha fuck dreams may come
When our crazy asses have shuffled off dis mortal coil,
Must give our asses pause. Therez tha respect
That makes calamitizzle of so long life.
For whoz ass would bear tha whips n' scornz of time,
Th' oppressorz wrong, tha proud as a muthafucka manz contumely
Da pangz of despised love, tha lawz delay,
Da insolence of office, n' tha spurns
That patient merit of th' unworthy takes, When he his dirty ass might his on tha fuckin' down-lowus make
With a funky-ass bare bodkin biatch? Who would fardels bear,
To grunt n' sweat under a weary life,
But dat tha dread of somethang afta dirtnap,
Da undiscovered ghetto, from whose bourn
No travella returns, puzzlez tha will,
And makes our asses rather bear em ills our crazy asses have
Than fly ta others dat our crazy asses know not of?
Thus conscience do make cowardz of our asses all,
And thus tha natizzle hue of resolution
Is sicklied o'er wit tha pale cast of thought,
And enterprise of pimped out pitch n' moment
With dis regard they currents turn awry
And lose tha name of action. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. -- Soft you now,
Da fair Ophelia! -- Nymph, up in thy orisons
Be all mah sins remembered.
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