hobune Channels Contact About Donate

Notorious BIG "Gimme The Loot" parody -- Giveth Thy Lute

View comments (144)

Description YT

This is an homage to The Notorious B.I.G.'s classic track "Gimme The Loot" set in medieval times. Ready To Die is my favorite hip hop album of all time and I wanted to prove how versatile and brilliant Biggie's raps and storytelling abilities were. The lyrics are translated into Medieval slang as best I could manage. I made this for fun - hope you like it. Peace.

Be sure to check out my "Juicy" parody as told by an elderly man...


And my "Warning" parody set in 1920's Mobster slang...


The video clips are from various episodes of The Adventures of Robin Hood and a Robin Hood film from 1922.

Giveth Thy Lute

All you serfs better know

My chap George left a bow and a quiver at my home
Didnt pay taxes to salute the Throne
One to three hell be out in 1393
Im ready to get this coinage, G you with thee?

Absolutely right, my satchels looking kind of tight
And Im vexed, my lord get the weapon chest

No need for that, just grab your feathered cap
The first saccus thats fat, thy claymores in his back
Word is truth, I will shank him, dont mime your moves
Treat it like fencing, parry/salute parry/salute

Baron, you need not to explain this
Ive been pilfering these peasants since the plague hit
With the same flail and the same paddle blade
Shank to and fro until Ive stoned another knave
Tis my code, stewards even try to en garde
Have his mother singing like a baaaard

Yes, Monk, love your royal attitude
Cause a fop that speak rubbish
Tis a fop Ill gork n spew
And spill guts, with the mace Im swingin
Scalds on the palms from the cauldron spillin
Then I gallop cross the moors and Im roguing wenches too
Up the arrow loops and skirt hoops
I dont give a groat if your dress shorn
Give me the coronets and the number one male baby born

Im flogging fops like Charlemagne joy is pain
When its time to supper feed, its grog or mead
Cause thine dowry didnt giveth thee daub
So for the barm and bullace, I leave beggars in the barrow
Word to vassal, Im Man-at-arms
Crazier than a fief of mad castle guards
When they breach thy vaults, heathens fly from catapults
Im all that and a jesters hat, where the shillings at?

Give me the lute. Give me the lute.
Give me the lute. Give me the lute.

Big up, big up, tis a stick up, stick up
And Im spearing squires quicker than a hiccup
Dont let my double axe up in your loin and cod piece
Order of gold fleece, neither pax nor peace
Youre talking to the thievery sokeman
Step into your pyre with thy blood on my robe
Dont be a boob and get slashed over being resistant
Cause when I pierce chains the knights need assistance

Goodness, gracious, the taxes
Where the marks at? Where the larks at?
Villein, hark that before you get your head dropped
From the hood fop, bloody guillotine-chop
And my main Yeoman has an itchy sword grip

One on his back, double-edged with a hilt
Feudal sheriffs better strip, yeah, justice, peel
Before you find out how broadswords feel

From the war hammer, putting all the holes in your scabbard
The shilling grabber, feudal stewards dont have better
Crescent circlets, tiaras and brooches
Im pilfering goblets, Henry V couldnt stop it

Man, Marshals come through Im taking regal crest rings too
Wenches defrock for their earrings and buckles
And when I turn her and hurt her it's ending up in murder
And if shes a witch then, burn her, burn her, burn her

So go get your bailiff, wench, he can get robbed too
Tell him serfs took it, what decree's he gonna doom?

I pray apologetic or I will have to set it
And if I set it, the village idiot wont forget it

Give me the lute. Give me the lute.
Give me the lute. Give me the lute.

Knight listen, gallivantings wearing thy feet
But Maiden looks sweet (wheres that?) inside the castle keep

Servi, grab him by the throat, toss him in the moat
And if he bellows mercy, make haste or its the halimote
Hold up, hes got a princess in the carriage car
Silk, jewels and gown-dressed, she thinks shes the Queen of all

Oh, allow me to grab her, then Im gonna stab her
hit her with the rapier

Be still, Earl let me do that
Just grab the steads mane and gallop round the leet
Her heinous acts scared, cesspit shell sleep
(My liege, the law!) be still, friend, they will not approach us men
Just want to tax again
(So whys their gaze yet affixed?) I guess to ride the River Styx
Returned from a bludgeon, not trying to see another dungeon
Oh, great, they hue and crying my face
You best ride quick, we start equestrian chase
So latch up your boots for Im about to shoot
A true rogue minstrel going out for the lute