What’s good yo? This week we cryin havoc with Julius Caesar by William Shakespeare.
In the 1st century BC, Julius Caesar and his army just cruised back to Rome
after b*tch-slappin his rival Pompey. And now he and his entourage ragin through the streets to celebrate.
It’s all poppin bottles and smokin kush til some Soothsayer calls our boy out and say,
“You best Beware the Ides of March, yo!”
But Caesar just shakes that hater off and rolls up another fatty.
Later, some busta named Cassius conversatin with Brutus, Caesar’s main brutha from another motha.
And Cassius be all like, “Caesar gonna become king and he ain’t even all dat. Dat fool’s got to go. You feel me?”
Brutus dig, but he ain’t happy bout it. Caesar’s his boy, but he don’t want no tyrants messin with the Roman peeps.
So he crew up with the cause, and the sh*t goes down March 15th.
That day, Caesar bout to leave the crib when his biddy Calpurnia say,
"Baby don’t go. I seen some sh*t and just know something whack gonna happen.”
He like, "oh sh*t, word?”
But when one of Cassius’s thugs roll up, he convinces Caesar his b*tch be trippin, and then say,
“Yo, if you whipped like dat, you can stay home instead of lettin’ us crown you King."
Caesar be like, “Hold up brotha. Don’t be like dat. Let’s do dis sh*t."
As soon as they reach the spot, all dem traitors whip out their blades and shank his ass.
When Caesar sees his bro Brutus join in, he say, “Aw sh** you too man?”
Then BAM! Dat fool dead.
At Caesar’s funeral, Brutus try sweet-talkin the Romans by tellin em that killin Caesar was a favor to Rome.
And at first, erryone believe him. But Caesar’s boy Antony ain’t havin none of dat.
He rocks the mic and makes all of Caesar’s killers look like real assholes.
Next thing you know, the Roman people be burning down houses and kick Brutus and Cassius to the f**kin curb.
So Antony, Octavius Caesar, and some rich playboy Lepidus start raisin a swole army
to stomp dem backstabbin’ snitches.
Snitches get stiches.
Sh*t goes ham at the battle of Philippi, where brothas screamin “187” on the reg.
Then Cassius think he see one of his homeboys, Titinius, get captured, gets all torn-up, and kills himself.
But turns out ol' Titty just fine, but can’t handle Cassius bein dead, so he decide to take dat long dirt nap too.
When Brutus’s army gets straight wrecked, he decide he gonna stack one more body — his own.
Then Antony rolls up to Brutus’s body and pours one out for our boy, sayin he was the most legit Roman of them all,
cuz unlike the rest of dem backstabbin rats, Brutus was actin for the good of the hood.
Now if your b*tch-ass think you readin straight history up in here, you best check yo-self,
cuz da bard wasn’t trippin about historical accuracy, B.
Matter of fact, some of the details he pulled right out of his assh*le.
For example, in the play, ol' JC can’t hear sh*t out of one ear. And even though dat ain’t the way it was,
Willy Shakes slangin dat detail to symbolize that although he can hear all the righteous things people say bout him,
fool is completely deaf to all the warnings that his boys bout to cross him.
"I rather tell thee what is to be feared / Than what I fear: for always I am Caesar.
Come on my right hand, for this ear is deaf, / And tell me truly what thou think'st of him."
And that’s part of what makes dis play a tragedy: Caesar’s head is so damn big
that he thinkin he should rock the crown even though it ain’t rightfully his.
Caesar think he so hard dat ain’t nobody can touch him, so he don’t listen to nobody —
I mean, his wife, da soothsayer — and dat’s why his arrogant ass ends up in dirt.
Cuz like Cicero say, people only hear what they wanna hear.
"Indeed, it is a strange-disposed time. / But men may construe things after their fashion.
Clean from the purpose of the things themselves."
And speakin of hearin, listen up, son.
Even though the play is called "Julius Caesar," fool gets iced just half way through,
so some scholas think that dis play is really about Brutus, and he's the real tragic hero up in dis hood.
Ain’t no doubt that he wanted to put his boy Caesar six feet deep, but unlike Cassius, who just a jealous playa-hater,
Brutus was tryin to create a free Rome with no tyrants.
So as much as it hurt Brutus to backstab his realest homie, that wasn’t his tragic flaw.
Naw, blood. It was rollin with the wrong crew.
So roll with the right crew and hit dat subscribe button! In vino veritas!