Patti Cake$ Page #7
Opportunity knocks
I rip the door
Off the hinges
Here's Patti, b*tches.
You can call me
Your Highness
I puff them joints
Like arthritis
I'm doper than a line of China
White that's up in ya sinus
And all I touch is the Midas
My lifestyle is designer
Rihanna said my vagina
Shinin' bright like a diamond
'Cause when
I'm rhymin' the fly
Men wanna get in my hymen
I say don't even try, man
'Cause I didn't say Simon
Cowell crowned me the nicest
Miss American Idol
My rivals go and join ISIS
'Cause they be suicidal
F***in' swear like a sailor
The Father, Son and Holy Ghost
'Cause I'm a O-Z disciple
Count my Franklins in Spanks
'Cause my rhymes
Be the tightest
Well, I know talk is cheap
But my sh*t is priceless
My libations?
Not what I was seeing
in my mind's eye.
You know how much I bought
that painting for at auction?
Uh...
I don't know.
Two point four.
Because it's the perfect
distillation of a man's anger...
pain, emotion.
In the lines, you can see
the artist's madness,
his dreams, humanity.
It's a snapshot of an artist's
soul in all its divinity.
For that,
two point four is a steal.
You ain't no artist.
You a culture vulture
who ain't got a clue
who it is you is.
Stick to the drinks, white girl.
I gave you a chance
and you f***ed me.
The tie.
You f***ed me.
You're fired.
F***!
F***! F***!
Dumb, f***in' b*tch!
So f***in' stupid.
This is the biggest
f***in' opportunity of ya life.
I'm 'bout to make you a star.
You sing your little bilingual
face off, all right?
Do not f*** this up.
I need you to go up there
and be a man
for once in your f***in' life.
The crowd, they f***in' hype.
They love you,
do not let them down.
Get yourself on that stage
and you shake your
little f***in' hips.
Just go up there and do it.
Benzo says we're on in ten.
All right, ladies and gentlemen,
give it up for Sparkles,
all the way from Bushwick,
New York.
This is it. Moment of truth.
Let's melt some faces.
Cheeters is proud to present
PB and motherfucking J.
Comma Sutra
Comma, Comma Sutra
Comma Sutra
Comma, Comma Sutra
Oh, we're PBNJ
We goin' do ya
Comma Sutra
Comma, Comma Sutra
Jheromeo the lover boy
And Killa P the shoota
The A-list makes
A beeline to my behind
Rip the stage in a rage
Every time I freestyle
Fly off in a G-5
'Cause the v-gine's
Sweeter than a key lime
Feline
Break bread with Bill
What're you doing?
Where are you going, P?
We have a whole set to finish.
You can't just
run off like this.
God, don't you get it?
You're completely ridiculous.
Nobody can take you seriously.
I can't anymore, either.
Okay, no more of your stupid
little fantasies. I quit.
This is bullshit!
Hey, yo, Hareesh!
Hareesh! Hareesh!
What the f*** is you doin'
out here, mang?
Go on stage and finish
the f***in' performance, mang.
Smack the spice out your
f***in' ass, mang.
Today on Judge Faith...
A projector in the house
isn't always the brightest idea.
Huh! Look who it is.
Couldn't sleep, either?
What's the matter, Patti Cakes?
I f***ed up real bad.
What'd you do?
A**hole.
You already are.
You're my superstar.
Love you, kiddo.
I love you, too.
It'll be okay.
Walking through
a graveyard one dire night
And I was scared
I was shaken with fright
Somebody screamed
I turned around
Ma'am, ma'am.
Hey, ma'am.
Hon, gimme a Red Stripe.
Let me guess.
Dressed as sad poet.
Not tonight, Joe.
I'm not in the mood.
That time of month, ma'am?
Eat a dick.
Ta-da.
What d'ya think?
Really, Ma?
That's a lotta skin.
Yeah, well,
that's what they're comin'
to see, darlin'.
It's called show business.
But you wouldn't know
about that, would ya?
Why can't you just act your age?
And why can't you act your race?
How's your rap career goin'?
It's over.
Hmm. Well...
Well, reality's a b*tch,
ain't she?
You know, I ain't holdin'
your hair back
in that stall tonight.
"Yo, I got
the game in a chokehold;
You soft as fro-yo;
I'm Babe Ruthing kimono.
You Sammy So-So;
you ain't got no wins
in my dojo.
I'm beefin' with all y'all
pussies queefing;
I'm... "
- Oh.
- F*** you all.
I'm done.
All right, looks like we got
every cop in town on stage.
Let's make some noise for.
NJPD Blues
and the beautiful
Barbara Dombrowski.
Thank you, boys.
Whip 'em out!
I went to a party
Last Saturday night
I didn't get laid
I got in a fight
Uh-huh
It ain't no big thing
But I know what I like
I know
I like dancin' with you
And you know what I like
You know
I like dancin' with you
Dancin' with you
Come on, kiss me once
Kiss me twice
Come on, pretty baby
Kiss me deadly
Come on, kiss me once
Kiss me twice
Come on, pretty baby
Kiss me deadly
What're you doing here?
I feel like
a big fat f***ing liar.
You have more talent
and imagination
in this little finger
than the rest of this whole
town combined.
Don't leave.
Please.
Bob.
Excuse me?
My real name is Bob.
I went to Berkin Catholic.
My dad's a lawyer...
Shh. Bob.
I can't believe I'm saying this.
Shut the f*** up.
Bob?
Hello?
Nan, you won't believe...
She went to see Pop-Pop.
Bye, Nan.
That was really beautiful, Ma.
He didn't even show up.
Coward.
He went back
to his crow of a wife.
He don't deserve you.
How are we even gonna pay
for all of this?
Did you get your
latest paycheck?
Ma.
I got let go.
Dombrowski sisters,
settin' the world on fire.
Killa P,
lyrically the illest b*tch
in history.
Lifestyles
of the Rich 'n Infamy.
Breakfast at Tiffany's;
dinner in Little Italy.
Oh, I guess
it's just the pimp in me.
Cindy, how are you?
I'm in trouble.
- Shoplifting?
- No, real trouble.
I ran away from this place
and can't go back. I just...
Okay, wait a minute.
Slow down. What place?
Her body's not even cold yet.
What else you want,
my first f***in' born?
Hey! Hey, chill, girl.
- Is this Killa P?
- Uh...
it was. Who's this?
French Tips.
Remember we met a while ago
back at a Bar Mitzvah thing?
Hey, I finally got around
to listening to your demo.
And it's rough as hell,
but, you know what,
it's kinda hot.
- You're shittin' me.
- Not shitting you.
I hope you don't mind,
but I submitted your name
for this shortlist
for the Rookie Monster.
- Wait, really?
- Mm-hmm.
Wait, you better not be
messing with me, okay.
I've had a really
tough run here.
Hey, hey, it's next week
at Saint Mary's, in Newark.
And, you know, you got
some record label people there,
some A and R folks and sh*t.
Get some eyes on you.
We broke up.
Well, get back together.
Don't waste my time. Bye.
Holy sh*t.
Holy sh*t, holy sh*t,
holy sh*t, holy sh*t.
Jheromeo.
That's my homie-o.
Wherefore art thou, my Jheromeo?
Look, I know I'm a piece
of f***in' garbage. I'm sorry.
You really need
to check yourself.
I miss you.
Miss hangin' out.
Miss makin' music together.
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"Patti Cake$" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 23 Dec. 2024. <https://www.scripts.com/script/patti_cake$_15678>.
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