Chi-Raq Page #8

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You kill us with impunity.

You give them the opportunity.

'Cause we kill

each other like flies,

you rogue cops

think you can capitalize.

You thugs don't care about each other,

why should we?

Thugs? Who the f***

you calling a thug?

Because we are we.

No matter what our problems are,

we deserve respect.

Even though our lives

ain't perfect,

we deserve respect.

Even though we live

in Terror Town,

- we deserve...

- Respect!

And if you

don't understand that,

then, brother, step back.

You and your

Dr. Ben Carson lot.

Yeah, I'll kill that for you.

I'm a killer.

Killing that p*ssy, huh?

- Huh? Huh?

- Oh, Chi-Raq!

I'm a killer?

- Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!

- Huh? Yeah, come!

How'd you learn

to make love so good?

Repetition.

They call Chi-Raq

the p*ssy magician.

You are crazy like glue.

One time...

I saw my mom and this

dude getting it in...

right after my daddy got killed.

Dude named Blue Monday used to come

around and try to pimp on my moms.

She turned a few

rent tricks, I think.

Kill me!

Kill me!

Kill me!

Kill this p*ssy!

Kill this p*ssy!

Go on, nigga,

didn't I tell your skinny black ass

to knock before you

come in my bedroom?

I'm sorry, Mommy.

Demetrius, close

the goddamn door!

Demetrius, go!

Did you understand

they was making love?

That's what they was doing?

Looked more like fighting,

f***ing, and screwing.

Blue Monday knew that

I saw him and Moms.

Her name was Lucy.

So one day he just

pulled me aside,

yanked my chain,

laced me with the games,

showed me how to pull

b*tches and everything.

He soft-pitched me

my first piece.

I was, like, 12 years old.

Taught me how

to be a man and sh*t.

Handed me his baddest

bottom b*tch.

It was a present

for washing his Cadillac.

- My God.

- I know, right?

Should have got like

two or three b*tches.

I washed the sh*t

out that Cadillac.

Where's your moms now?

Demetrius, close

the goddamn door!

F*** off.

Talk about my mom.

I don't wanna,

I don't wanna

I don't wanna,

I don't wanna sit down.

This is an emergency.

- We're all here for peace, right?

- Yeah.

I wanna hear you

scream for peace.

Can you scream for peace?

'Cause that's what we want

and that's what we're about.

We gotta stop the killing.

We gotta stop the killing.

Chi-Raq,

what's doing?

You know how we do, Tiny Tony.

Check it, man.

It's all there.

Okay, them 30 poppers.

All right, yeah, spine stoppers.

Keep it coming like that.

Appreciate it.

- Trojans!

- Hole in a Trojan the size of the ozone, you know?

Chicago's peace is our Selma.

Brothers and sisters,

it is time to cross the bridge.

- Put down the gun.

- Put down the gun.

- Put down the gun.

- Put down the gun.

- Put down the gun.

- Put down the gun.

- Don't shoot.

- Don't shoot.

- Don't shoot.

- Don't shoot.

- Don't shoot.

- Don't shoot.

- Stop the violence.

- Stop the violence.

- Stop the violence.

- Stop the violence.

- What do we want?

- Peace.

Save our babies.

Save our babies.

Save our babies.

Save our babies.

Please, don't shoot!

Save our babies.

Save our babies.

It's dick day.

Omaha beach.

And Uncle Sam's pulling

out everything

but the bedroom sheets.

Now they hooking up

the Noriega speakers.

Remember Panama, y'all?

That was the one

before the other one

before the other one

as I recall.

Well, them atomic

woofers and tweeters

made General Manuel's

machete snap.

Too many DBs for them

pockmarks to bear.

Plus he's ugly as crap.

Our boys caught that dictator

in a rock-and-roll trap.

So now the commish, too,

done figured out

how to make those pussies clap.

A black-headed woman make a

freight train jump the track.

A long tall gal make

a preacher ball the jack.

A blonde-headed woman

make a good man leave town.

And a redheaded woman

make a boy slap his pappy down.

Ashes to ashes.

Dust to dust.

This sex strike go on

much longer,

Bishop T.D. Jakes

gonna cuss.

Operation Hot and Bothered.

We turn them on,

they turn themselves in.

We'll stick those prick

teasers in a federal pen.

Oh, boy

I'd be in trouble

if you left me now

'Cause I don't know where

to look for love

I just don't know how

Oh, girl

How I depend on you

To give me love

when I need it

Right on time

you will always be

All my friends

call me a fool

They say let the woman

take care of you

So I try to be hip

And think

like the crowd

But even the crowd

can't help me now

Oh, oh, oh

Oh, boy

Tell me

what am I gonna do

I know I got

a guilty face

But I feel

so out of place

Oh, yeah

Better be on my way

I can't stay here.

Ladies, I found these earplugs

in the artillery room.

It should help

drown out the bombing.

Booty, booty, booty,

booty, booty, booty.

Booty, booty, booty,

booty, booty, booty.

Booty, booty, booty.

My God, he's got

booty on the brain.

For God's sake, do something.

Yes, sir.

Wheel him out of here.

Poontang. Poontang.

Poontang.

Poontang on the membrane.

I want a big booty.

I want a small booty. So fine!

- I do love those Chi-Lites, though.

- So fine!

Eugene Record, lead singer,

wrote most of their songs.

Yo, peoples, dig.

The problem with them quiet

storm slow jam grooves

is everybody gets

in a baby-making mood.

It's been three months, y'all.

Can you believe it?

A long hard three.

This is no longer a test.

It's a national emergency.

P*ssy!

I need some motherfucking twat

and I need it now.

It's making me f***ing insane.

Goddamn!

That boy's balls

was bright blue.

He's an 18-wheeler

carrying a heavy load

whose arrival is overdue.

But like Wild Bill told

Monica on her way down,

"Don't let that sh*t drip.

They'll use it as evidence."

Let's speak on something

else don't make no sense.

Remember the two concert gunmen?

Let's check in on those fools

and see how they do.

So y'all remember me?

But did y'all know my mission?

Kill those Spartan niggas

before intermission.

Those bullets severed my spine.

Tore my behind.

Now I'm unable to walk.

Thank God I can still talk.

I was Chi's boy.

What I'm now, I can't say.

What did I seek?

To be monster Greek.

Being thug is what I love.

How you like me now?

Lost a kidney, my spleen,

most of my digestive tract.

From one goddamn bullet, dawg.

That's the keeping it 100 fact.

Now I'm fed through a IV.

I can barely pee.

Jack, I'm no longer me.

What it means to be 18

and black.

I was born in Chicago

In 1991...

This is Sparta?

Huh?

Squad! Gang!

- My niggas, what is this?

- We Sparts.

Sparts supposed to hold them

hostage with the sausage.

Y'all motherfuckers

got it? Spartans.

I don't know why y'all crying like

somebody cancelled Kwanzaa and Christmas.

Instead of lying in the trenches,

y'all acting like a bunch of b*tches.

See, we just wanna

check in Betty Ford.

Get that sexual healing.

You know we reeling.

What do I care if them foo-foo heifers

lit y'all, up and negated the back?

I'm Chi-Raq, nigga.

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