Dave Chappelle: Killin' Them Softly Page #2

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Every black dude in this room is a

qualified paralegal and sh*t.

He knows the law.

If one of us even start

to do something wrong,

an old black man would

pop out of nowhere.

Nigga, don't do that. That's 5 to 10.

Watch out.

We know the laws and the penalties.

Chip didn't even know he couldnt race.

I'm not saying I don't like police.

I'm not saying that.

I'm saying I'm just scared of them.

Nothing wrong with that.

Sometimes we want to call them to0.

Somebody broke into my house once.

This is a good time to call him.

But I went, I don't know.

The house is too nice.

It ain't a real nice house but

they'll never believe I live in it.

They'd be, he's still here!

Oh my God.

Open and shut case.

Johnson.

I saw this once before

when I was a rookie.

Apparently this nigga broke I n and hung

up pictures of his family everywhere.

Well, let's sprinkle some crack

on him and get out of here.

That's that whole brutality thing.

That's common knowledge, man.

There was a time when only

minorities knew about that.

I won't say whites wouldn't believe us.

But they were a little skeptical.

A little skeptical.

I mean I don't blame you.

Even Newsweek printed it.

It was in Newsweek. White

people were like, oh my God!

Honey, did you see this?

Apparently the police have been

beating up negroes like hot cakes.

It's in the May issue.

I mean really how could

you know about that?

How could anyone else know?

You know.

Maybe he should have seen

something a little suspicious.

Doesn't that seem a little suspicious?

Every dead black person

in a police van

has crack sprinkled on them?

Come on, man.

Come on, man.

Who get shot and sprinkles

crack on themselves?

Nobody would do that.

BAM! Oww! Oww!

I don't want to leave no mysteries.

I'm a paranoid guy, you know.

I'm afraid to call 911 for anything.

If it's like a fire or anything.

Because they tape those phone calls.

I see the shows. They tape them.

And then they play on television.

That's f***ed up.

Now I'll say anything if I'm scared.

That sh*t is private.

You're on your own.

What if I get killed?

They start playing that

911 tape on the news.

I'm dead. I can't explain

myself to my buddies.

We was watching the news.

We have Reg Chapman on the scene. Reg?

What's going on out there?

It always takes the guy

on the scene a minute.

Hi, Bob!

Hi yes.

We just got hold of a copy of

Dave Chappelle's frantic

911 emergency call.

Remember, viewers, some of this

language is disturbing.

"Hello. Emergency?"

"Help!"

"Help, motherf***er! They're

coming to get me!"

"Just calm down, sir. Where are ya?"

"Oh, oh, I sh*t on myself."

"I can't stop cryin'."

They play that sh*t 30, 40 times a day.

All my buddies will be at

my funeral looking at me.

"You know Dave sh*t on himself, right?"

I saw it on the news.

"Died crying like a b*tch"

I'll be dead, I can't

even defend myself.

That's not a nice thing to do.

That's not a nice thing to do.

I mean, it's a 9-1-1 tape. How

do they expect you to sound?

Of course you gon' be scared.

It's an emergency.

There's nobody calls

9-1-1 cool and relaxed.

Now that sh*t would sound

ridiculous, wouldn't it?

"Hello, emergency."

"Hi!" Hey, 9-1-1. how are ya?

Yeah, uh, look,

there's a group of hooded white men

gathering outside of my house.

And it looks like they mean business.

"GET OUT HERE Nigga!"

"I gotta go."

"You guys try and hurry."

Too much pressure.

That's my problem: I can't... I can't

handle pressure.

Sometimes pressure makes

me talk different.

I'm serious.

Have you ever had that

social pressure...

have you ever talk to

someone who's fake?

And they make you fake?

Like, that guy would be like:

"Hey, how ya doin'?"

And you're like:
"Fine, how are you?"

I don't even talk like that.

I get sick of that sh*t.

I do it and it just makes me sick.

Sometimes I'll talk crazy just

to make myself feel better.

Do y'all do that?

You start talking like crazy.

You ever hear this voice?

"MAH."

That's how bad guys used to talk

in the 40's, in the old days.

See, I used... I talk like that.

Not all the time, but if somebody

put the pressure on me, f*** it.

I gotta cut loose.

When the police pull me

over I'll talk like crazy.

"Son? Son.

Do you know why we pulled you over?"

"Nyah. Cause I'm black, see!

That's right. MAAAH!"

I do it.

It's not illegal to talk like that.

How do they know I don't

talk like that every day?

"Stop talking like that."

"Stop talking like what, copper? Mah.

That's how I talk, see."

You gotta make life interesting

like that cause the sh*t is flimsy.

Life is flimsy.

You... you think you're gonna live,

but ain't nobody gon' live forever.

It's dangerous out here.

We know what's going on.

I travel now, you know.

I used to think that D.C.

had the roughest ghettos in the country.

Nah, nigga. Mm-mmm.

I have seen some sh*t now.

Oh, there's some rough,

rough areas outside of D.C.

Yeah, everybody should

go to the ghetto.

I was taken to the ghetto one time.

That's the worst:

When you get taken and

you're not expecting to go.

You know, usually you wanna

know when you're going

to the ghetto, like, "I'm

gonna see some wild sh*t."

I gotta prepare myself.

"I'm gonna see somethin' crazy."

When you're taken, it's different.

I had a limousine driver.

It was after a show, it was late at

night, it was like 3:00 in the morning.

I had a limousine driver, he was a

nice guy, talking to me and sh*t.

"Oh, hey, where you from, dawg?"

D.C.? Word?

"That's a rough city, man."

Then his cell phone started ringing.

"Hold on one second."

Hello?

Oh, what's up, nigga? What?

What the f***? Slow down. What?

What the F***?!

No!

No!

Noooo!

F*** that! Nigga, F*** IT!

I'm on my way! Hey.

Hey.

"I gotta make a stop real quick."

At 3:
00 in the morning... I didn't know

he was taking me to the ghetto at first.

I started looking out the window,

I was like, "What the f***?"

There was a gun store, gun

store, liquor store, gun store.

"Where the f*** you takin' me?!"

"This don't look good."

He didn't say sh*t.

He just pulled up in front

of an old, rickety building.

That looked like a project.

Now, I never been there before,

I'm not sure if it was a project.

But it certainly had all the

familiar symptoms of a project.

A f***ing crackhead ran this way.

And then another one jumped

out a tree and sh*t.

The driver said, "I'll be

right back," and left me.

Took the keys with him, he just left me.

At 3:
00 in the morning, in front of

a project, in a f***ing limousine.

This was not good.

I was like, "Man, I gotta

look around and see if I"

can see some landmarks and

figure out where I'm at.

I have to escape on foot.

Now this is when I knew I

was in a bad neighborhood.

You only see this in the

worst neighborhoods.

Remember, it's 3:00 in the morning.

It's 3:
00 in the morning.

I look out the window...

There was a f***ing baby

standing on a corner.

For real.

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