Legends of Chamberlain Heights (2016) s01e05 Episode Script
The Legend of Tupaquia
1 [funky hip-hop music.]
Hurry up, mother[bleep.]
er, before somebody sees us! You know your husband drives a Guber! Aye, don't look at me.
I'm just the side nigga.
I'm gon' suck the shit out them titties later.
I promise you.
[laughs.]
[phone line trilling.]
This is Jamal, don't nobody leave voicemails.
Text me, bitch.
[beep.]
I'm at Lo Lo's, Jamal.
I told you I was doing a special open mic just for you.
You better be out there, mother[bleep.]
er! Smooches.
MAN: Are you ready for your next spoken word artist? Give it up for Generykah Badon't.
[crowd whooping.]
Side Boos, how y'all feel? - Whoo! - You tell 'em! Wifed-up nigs on the low low, y'all all right? - Huh? - What? This one's for you, Jamal.
I'm gettin' tired of yo shit We ain't never seen in public [crowd cheering.]
Sit yo monkey-ass down.
And every time I come around They say you ain't here, dead, or you way out of town But you don't like that I'm fat With titties in the back I think I'm tired of callin', Jamal [together.]
# Don't call 'em # Nigga, I'm 'bout to be gone [cheers and applause.]
[microphone feeds back.]
Jank Eye Jarvis? What the [bleep.]
you doin' here? What, 'cause I got a janky eye I can't have a side boo? 1x05 - The Legend of Tupaquia [laid-back music.]
GROVER: Damn look at Justine Beaver.
She light-skinded, rockin' a LeBron jersey, and her toenails is on fleek.
Yo, sayin' on fleek is no longer on fleek, my dude.
White people sayin' it now.
Besides, those acrylics is [bleep.]
in' up her cuticles.
- She need to switch to gels.
- Huh? I mean, just ask her what that mouth do.
I don't think she speaks English.
She's from Atlanta Ahh! Girl, you can't be sneakin' up on a thicky while he smashchatin'.
You could've had my heart attacked.
[bleep.]
your heart, Jamal! You didn't give a damn about mines! How you full figure that? I was trying to break up with you dramatically in front of everybody at Lo Lo's last night, but yo ass ain't show up.
- Wait break up? - You heard me! A side-bitch tired of being pushed to the side, Jamal oh! - Aw, what's up, girl? - ALL: Ew! You know what, Jamal? A bitch might not look like Rihanna Nothin' like her well, maybe a little in the beat-up pics? But you ain't gon' find nobody that can make they stomach twerk like me.
I mean, it's a decent talent.
Aww, hell naw, Jamal! It's over! You better call Tyrone.
[grunts.]
Who the hellz is Tyrone? I don't know, but I do know you got curved by yo side boo.
Man, these hos ain't loyal.
Jamal, how you got a side boo with no main boo anyway? Wouldn't that make Medina your main boo by default? I don't feel like doing side-bitch word problems today, my nigs.
My heart is heavier than Medina's big titty.
And my soul is blacker than the little one.
We know, homey.
That's why we finna take you somewhere to cheer you up.
- Where? Sizzlers? - Naw, even greasier.
Now this the only shake club in the Heights takin' fake IDs.
Yup.
Mm-hmm, whatever.
Have fun, gentlemen.
[techno music.]
[squelching.]
Coming to the stage, give it up for Tupaquia! "Tupaquia? " What kind of name is that? It's a stripper name, like Sparkle or Amber Rose.
Her momma must of been a hella Pac fan.
[music.]
- Nah bro, it is Tupac! - Pac is dead, my nig.
And even if he was alive, ain't no way my favorite rapper would be a shake booty bitch at The Mooseknuckle.
I only got one word "Datassdoe.
" [romantic tones.]
[coins jingling.]
Jamal, don't be mercy tippin' the mud ducks.
- Wait for dem [bleep.]
ables to come through.
- Tupaquia ain't no mud duck.
She's a beautiful, black swan, with a curvaceous tail feather.
[gurgling.]
I'm tellin' y'all, that's Tupac! Look, she got the same bald head, same bandana, same 60 bullet holes Aw, man, that's just a coincidence.
Oh yeah? What about the tats? - But dat ass doe - That ain't Machiavelli, my dude.
Watch, I'm finna prove it to you.
Yo, homey, where you from? Westside, mother[bleep.]
er.
And I'm on my period, partna.
See, the bitch a blood too.
Mmm-mm-mm.
Tupaquia's assies give me life.
You just vulnerable right now, Jamal, and them assies got you open.
I'm tellin' y'all, she Tupac! Look right here on Medeafakeout.
It say that Tupac was last seen with Biggie and Michael Jackson doing a drive-by in a Prius! Lies! Nigs don't even drive Prii.
I brought you guys Tang! [giggles.]
- [gasping.]
Oh! - Goddamn! What happened to your big-ass, deluxtable titties, Mrs.
Milk? Chill homey, that's my moms you talkin' to.
Yo, what the [bleep.]
happened to your big-ass deluxtable titties, Mom? Oh, uh let's just say, somebody kept their promise.
[chuckling.]
- Oop! - [together.]
Ew! Whoopsy! [laughing.]
Mmm, Titty Tang.
I wonder what she's like on the inside of dem cheeks.
Look, Tupaquia is Tupac! Insides and outsides.
I mean think about it, he faked his own death, dropped 20 albums from a compound in Thailand, and now with the collapse of the music biz, he tryin' to re-brand himself as an empowered bitch, making his bread on that pole.
- Milk, that is not Tupac - That is Tupac, homey [arguing over each other.]
Oh, I see what's goin' on.
Y'all want some peanut butter to go with all that jelly-sy? - Aye what, homey? - You trippin', Jamal.
There are plenty more mooseknuckles out there to choose from, my nigs.
So don't hate 'cause I was makin' it rain change on the baddest bitch in the game.
[groovy music.]
# Ooh, baby, yeah.
# Cindy, I thought you said if I broke it off with Jamal, he would miss all this good coochie and beg me to come back.
It's been a whole day.
I'ma call 'em.
[together.]
# Don't call 'em # No, you gotta be patient, Medina.
That's how you play hard to get.
I do it all the time.
But I don't want to be hard to get, and girl, yo man is gay.
[together.]
# He likes menzes # Damn it, y'all gonna make me nick a nipple.
Randy is not gay.
He just looks out for his homes.
Look, he just sent me a pic.
Well, I don't need Jamal to do no gay shit like that.
I just want him to call me sometimes.
He will, but not if you break down and call him first.
And can you please put a bra on that one? - Hey, Tupaquia! - I remember you.
You that fat dude that came in the other night with them other mark ass busters.
- Yeah, but you can call me Jamal.
- Sorry, Jamal, I'm busy.
Still counting all these damn nickels and dimes you gave me the other night.
Do I look like a Coinstar to you, nigga? I just came to tell you I had a really good time, Tupaquia.
And I have to admit, I had a couple of cream dreams thinkin' about you last night.
- Is that right? - Yep.
But I'd really like to see what you like on the inside.
Damn, ain't nobody ever wanted my insides before.
I mean the insides of these cheeks of course, but that's about it.
Speaking of cheeks, you want a private dance? What you think I brought this for? Hobbit strippin' is some bullshit! Come on, get your head in the game, Bilbo! You know what Tupaquia? I feel like we had a real connection.
Like a love at first twerk type of thing.
But you don't even know me, partna.
Yeah, but I can get to know you.
You a sweet mother[bleep.]
er, you know that? I been told.
But, hey, Tupaquia, are we almost done? I think I'm gettin' concussioned.
Naw nigga, you got two more songs.
Then you're taking me for ice cream, partna! That's why automatic soap dispensers are racist.
They have been programmed by the man to systematically deprive the black man of his antibacterial and moisturizing rights.
- Uh, sanitation segregation? - Exactly.
Oh, that's dirty, homes.
Hey, Malik, you know shit.
Is Tupac still alive? You really wanna know? Okay, look, we all know about 'Pac's affiliation with the Black Panthers, right? But not only was he a threat to the CIA, the Illuminati, and the unconscious black man, he was just about to revolutionize music by bringing attention to the inequality and corruption in the world.
Furthermore Goddamn, just tell me what happened to bruh! Okay, bring it in.
- Pac got shot.
- Man, you serious? Yep.
On the strip in Vegas.
11:15 p.
m.
It was a travesty.
- Man, you just wasted our time.
- I got information on Biggie too.
Jam Master Jay, Pimp C, Natalee Holloway, Chandra Levy, the Lindbergh baby.
What you need? "You are a strong, black woman.
You can do bad all by yourself.
" I don't wanna do bad all by myself.
I wanna do bad with Jamal.
I'ma call him.
Medina, no! - Siri, call Jamal.
- [voice.]
Don't call him.
Bitch, I said call him! [voice .]
Calling.
Please don't hurt Siri.
Jamal is not in right now.
Jamaaal! - Oh, no.
- Oh, yeah! WOMEN: # Call him # Then she told me to call Tyrone.
And I don't even know a Tyrone.
So it's over between y'all, right? 'Cause I need all eyes on me.
Yep, it ain't nothin' to cut that bitch off.
[laughs.]
I don't know if you can handle this unconditional love, Jamal.
I mean, I ain't like all these other square-ass hoes out here.
So if you wanna leave now, I ain't mad at ya.
What, just 'cause you grind on dudes' laps every night and occasionally give brain in the back? That's just yo nine to five.
I-I like you for you, Tupaquia.
Well that's good to know, homey.
'Cause I'd hate to get all emotionally invested in you and shit, only to find out I'm just a side boo.
Uh, never that, girl.
[phone vibrates.]
- Who was that, Jamal? - Uh, nobody.
Hey, how 'bout we paint the town red? Nah, partna, we stay blue'd up from the shoe up around here, cuz! Ooh, I love when you talk Cripity, caa.
[sniffing.]
BOTH: Damn! [music.]
[coughing.]
[sniffing.]
Look, 'Pac is alive.
Listen to what happens when I play his record backwards.
This is Tupac.
And I'm not dead.
Kobe went out like a G.
He scored 60.
Aww, man, anybody with GarageBand could've did that.
Okay, then, I ain't want to do this, but I'm 'bout to shoot up yo head with some truth, homey.
I ain't never showed nobody this, but peep game.
Man, what the [bleep.]
? You on some Wire type shit.
Yea, I been following this case my whole life.
And I got evidence.
Here he is at Harry Potter World.
And here he is yelling at Katt Williams while he getting beat up by a little boy at a soccer game.
And here he is at O-Beezy's Inaugural Ball.
You already know he smashed Michelle raw-dog.
- I don't know, Milk.
- Oh, you still ain't convinced? Okay, I got the 911 tape from when Lamar Odom OD'd at the Bunny Ranch.
And guess who made the call? Yo, is this 911? [woman screaming.]
I'm down here with Lamar Odom at the Bunny Ranch.
Can you come now? This nigga 'bout to die tonight.
Can you feel me? Damn, so maybe 'Pac is alive, but that don't mean - he shakin' his ass at the Mooseknuckle.
- All I know is, Tupac gonna be giving Jamal that Poetic Justice dick in the back of a mail truck like he Janet.
Or Ms.
Jackson, if you nasty.
[laughs.]
This the best date ever.
Yeah, you know, when I first came out on that stage and saw you, I thought, "He probably like all the other fat, nasty tricks that come in here, just waitin' to get a whiff of a stripper's essence.
" But you turned out to be a mother[bleep.]
er - I could [bleep.]
on, you know? - For realz? Hey look, it's, uh, it's open mic at Lo Lo's! Whoa, partna! [sniffing.]
you won't be able to stay at home, brothers and sisters.
[mumbling incoherently.]
side bitches will not be televised.
Thank you.
Uh, hey, can you spit a hot 16, Tupaquia? - Is a pig's pussy pork? - Uh, I don't know, but why don't you go way over there and get on the mic.
This goes out to my new boyfriend, Jamal.
Yo, DJ.
Drop that eat, partna.
[records scratching.]
Kill any bitch in Chamberlain 'Cause I'm your new girlfriend [bleep.]
wit Jamal you want yo' life to end Bitch, I'll kill you for Jamal Cut your mother[bleep.]
in' throat off My volvo make sure yo kids don't grow I'ma kill all you mother[bleep.]
ers Take your eyes off him, hoe Bitch, I swear to god I love Jamal, Jamal is my nigga Damn, my bitch got bars.
His bitch? Oh, I'm a show him some bars.
[records scratching.]
Who gotcha, make it hot fa' hoes like sriracha On barbecue meats in deez Chamberlain streets Got my nigga, iggin' all my texts and my tweets Bitch, I should drag yo head up and down all the streets Heartbeat soundin' like Medina's big feet Thundering, between yo fake cheeks This shit got to stop, or I'ma peel your top By time they call the cops, I'll be at the IHOP, bitch [all cheering.]
You is mines, Jamal! - Who was that bitch, Jamal? - Uh Biggie Smalls? - Jamal! - Okay, okay.
That was Medina, my ex.
Well, she wasn't actin' like no ex to me, partna! Hey, I got an idea.
Why don't we go somewhere that has witnesses and surveillance cams for my safety? Bitch, you ain't going nowhere! - You with me now, and we in love! - Tupaquia bitch, you crazy.
[laughs.]
Nigga, don't you ever call me crazy again or I'll blow your [bleep.]
in' brains out, partna! [chomps.]
Okay, so check this out, my dude, Suge Knight even said Pac was alive on BETMZs.
You know I hate snitchin', but lemme tell you something.
Everybody out here sayin' Suge killed Tupac.
When they know off top, I'm the nigga that protected Tupac.
Tupac not dead.
You know he somewhere smokin' a cigar on an island somewhere.
But, I do know the nigga that gave Easy E AIDS, though.
Speakin' of which, we ain't seen Jamal in school all day.
- You think he with Tupaquia? - Da fu I know you ain't squeezin' yo lemon in the boys' bathroom.
Medina, you pee standing up? I gotta long clitoris, nigga, don't worry about it.
Now, what y'all know 'bout this new bald-headed bitch Jamal been talkin' to? Don't tell her nathen.
Real ones don't snitch, my nig.
Yeah, we don't know everything 'bout nothin', Medina.
So y'all his best friends, and he ain't tell y'all about Tupakeisha? - You mean Tupaquia.
- Aha! So y'all do know the bitch! Way to go, Grover.
I guess next you gon' tell her she works at the Mooseknuckle, too, right? - Aww, dang.
- I gots all I need.
Damn.
We better find Jamal fast.
Yeah, before Tupac give 'em some of dat California love wit his dick.
[techno music.]
Yo, you and Tupaquia into some freaky shit.
You look like you seen a ghost, my nig.
And why yo eye look like Ray Rice wife? Oh, uh it fell down the steps.
My eye it can be so clumsy sometimes.
- I think 'Pac hit em up.
- Yep! I mean I hit myself up.
Come on, homey, we gotta get you up out of here.
Medina's on her way.
And we think Tupaquia packin'.
Yeah, I know.
I've seen her gun.
Nah, we talkin' 'bout that dick.
- Hold up, she has a dick? - Ehhh, Tupac got that dick.
Let's roll.
- You don't understand.
I can't - Everything cool, Jamal? Lovely, Tupaquia.
They were just saying bye.
Now be gone, biyatch.
Nah homey, we ain't goin' nowherez! - If Jamal stay, we all stay.
- Oh, is that right? I don't think y'all know who the [bleep.]
y'all [bleep.]
in' wit! Jamal is mine now and I'm ready to stand up, throw down, and die for his little fat ass! And I will take out anybody that gets in my way, whenever I feel like it! Just do what she says, guys.
She's crazy! [laughs.]
You right, maybe I am crazy.
But you know what else? - I don't give a [bleep.]
.
- I got some [bleep.]
s to give, bitch.
Medina? You lookin' kinda sexy.
Tupaquia, let's have a strip off.
You win, Jamal stays with yo coochie.
I win, he's comin' home with mines.
[laughs.]
Look at this, notorious P.
I.
G.
wants to have a booty battle.
Don't let the jelly rolls fool you.
- I know how to twerk 'em, ho.
- Let's go, partna.
[music.]
Uh, how you want? Mm, mm-hmm.
- Yeah, you like that? - I love that.
Ooh, look at them things bounce! Smell good.
[both laughing.]
[grunting.]
Okay, Grimace, well, let me see you do this.
Ooh, girl! Medina, no! [rumbling.]
Oh shit, she 'bout to bring the whole Mooseknuckle down.
This one's for you, Jamaaaal [screaming.]
[crash.]
Somebody call the ambulance! Damn, what if she don't never wake up? I know what'll wake her up.
[screams.]
[panting.]
- Did I win? - Hell no.
You might have lost the battle, girl, but you did win the Jamal.
I'm sorry for breakin' up with you, Jamal.
I just wanted to be your main boo.
Main Boo is earned, not given.
You know what, I guess calling and stalking you all the time, booking open mics at Lo Lo's, spitting a hot 16 like Biggie Smalls, and booty battling Mooseknuckles for you was just not enough.
'Tis true.
And I guess I shouldn't have moved on so fast.
- But you seen that ass, Medina - Jamal! [laughs.]
I'm just playin' wit you, my big chili Frito.
You know she ain't got nothi' on them back titties.
Aye, Tupac had you cupcakin' like Little Debbie.
You was actin' kinda Drake-y, my nig.
You was shook.
Nah, that was all a part of the plan to get Medina back.
Ain't nobody scared of no Tupaq - Get in the car, mother[bleep.]
er! - Okay.
Later, my nigs.
Damn.
Maybe it is Tupac.
Uh, Tupaquia, why you wearing that dress? We on our way to Mexico to tie the eternal knot of mother[bleep.]
in' love.
If you got a problem wit that, I hear heaven got a ghetto for you, partna! Nope, j-j-just makin' sure we was matchin'.
Look, Jamal, I know I'm marrying you against yo will at gun point, but it's the only way, since you don't wanna do it on yo own.
And you did say you like me for who I am, - so here I am, nigga.
- Tupaquia, that was a lie.
It's what dudes say to not sound so, uh, "superofficial.
" I was really just in love with that waist to cake ratio.
So you was playin' me! You think Tupaquia is some kinda game, Jamal, that you can just download on your phone for $9.
99 and just play all you want, huh? I'm sorry, Tupaquia.
Dat booty doe.
Well, if I can't have you, Jamal, I guess nobody will.
Westside mother [gunshots.]
Yeah, yeah, take that, take that, I thought I told you.
Damn, big Suge! [bleep.]
you, Diddy, you know I can't see, nigga! Tupaquia! I'm sorry it had to end like this.
- I didn't mean to hurt you.
- I know, Jamal.
And I still wish I could have shot yo ass.
But since my spine is severed and I'm coughing up blood, let's just call it even.
[coughing.]
Don't you die on me, Tupaquia! Don't worry about me.
I been here before.
I'll be fine.
Go be with your fat bitch.
[coughing.]
Y'all good for each other.
Keep yo head up, Tupaquia.
Uh-oh, one time's comin'.
[police sirens wailing.]
Lights! Have it your way Like Burger King And I'm yo supersize black fry Let's have a meal Let's have a meal Ah, ah, ah ooh! [smooching.]
[giggling.]
Oh, no, come on, man.
Aye, Guber driver, to the crib.
So, I guess we'll never know if Tupaquia was Tupac.
Yeah.
Aye, homey, you goin' the wrong way.
Where you taking us? Westside, mother[bleep.]
ers! [all screaming.]
[funky hip-hop music.]
[funky hip-hop music.]
[rhythmic smacking.]
Hurry up, mother[bleep.]
er, before somebody sees us! You know your husband drives a Guber! Aye, don't look at me.
I'm just the side nigga.
I'm gon' suck the shit out them titties later.
I promise you.
[laughs.]
[phone line trilling.]
This is Jamal, don't nobody leave voicemails.
Text me, bitch.
[beep.]
I'm at Lo Lo's, Jamal.
I told you I was doing a special open mic just for you.
You better be out there, mother[bleep.]
er! Smooches.
MAN: Are you ready for your next spoken word artist? Give it up for Generykah Badon't.
[crowd whooping.]
Side Boos, how y'all feel? - Whoo! - You tell 'em! Wifed-up nigs on the low low, y'all all right? - Huh? - What? This one's for you, Jamal.
I'm gettin' tired of yo shit We ain't never seen in public [crowd cheering.]
Sit yo monkey-ass down.
And every time I come around They say you ain't here, dead, or you way out of town But you don't like that I'm fat With titties in the back I think I'm tired of callin', Jamal [together.]
# Don't call 'em # Nigga, I'm 'bout to be gone [cheers and applause.]
[microphone feeds back.]
Jank Eye Jarvis? What the [bleep.]
you doin' here? What, 'cause I got a janky eye I can't have a side boo? 1x05 - The Legend of Tupaquia [laid-back music.]
GROVER: Damn look at Justine Beaver.
She light-skinded, rockin' a LeBron jersey, and her toenails is on fleek.
Yo, sayin' on fleek is no longer on fleek, my dude.
White people sayin' it now.
Besides, those acrylics is [bleep.]
in' up her cuticles.
- She need to switch to gels.
- Huh? I mean, just ask her what that mouth do.
I don't think she speaks English.
She's from Atlanta Ahh! Girl, you can't be sneakin' up on a thicky while he smashchatin'.
You could've had my heart attacked.
[bleep.]
your heart, Jamal! You didn't give a damn about mines! How you full figure that? I was trying to break up with you dramatically in front of everybody at Lo Lo's last night, but yo ass ain't show up.
- Wait break up? - You heard me! A side-bitch tired of being pushed to the side, Jamal oh! - Aw, what's up, girl? - ALL: Ew! You know what, Jamal? A bitch might not look like Rihanna Nothin' like her well, maybe a little in the beat-up pics? But you ain't gon' find nobody that can make they stomach twerk like me.
I mean, it's a decent talent.
Aww, hell naw, Jamal! It's over! You better call Tyrone.
[grunts.]
Who the hellz is Tyrone? I don't know, but I do know you got curved by yo side boo.
Man, these hos ain't loyal.
Jamal, how you got a side boo with no main boo anyway? Wouldn't that make Medina your main boo by default? I don't feel like doing side-bitch word problems today, my nigs.
My heart is heavier than Medina's big titty.
And my soul is blacker than the little one.
We know, homey.
That's why we finna take you somewhere to cheer you up.
- Where? Sizzlers? - Naw, even greasier.
Now this the only shake club in the Heights takin' fake IDs.
Yup.
Mm-hmm, whatever.
Have fun, gentlemen.
[techno music.]
[squelching.]
Coming to the stage, give it up for Tupaquia! "Tupaquia? " What kind of name is that? It's a stripper name, like Sparkle or Amber Rose.
Her momma must of been a hella Pac fan.
[music.]
- Nah bro, it is Tupac! - Pac is dead, my nig.
And even if he was alive, ain't no way my favorite rapper would be a shake booty bitch at The Mooseknuckle.
I only got one word "Datassdoe.
" [romantic tones.]
[coins jingling.]
Jamal, don't be mercy tippin' the mud ducks.
- Wait for dem [bleep.]
ables to come through.
- Tupaquia ain't no mud duck.
She's a beautiful, black swan, with a curvaceous tail feather.
[gurgling.]
I'm tellin' y'all, that's Tupac! Look, she got the same bald head, same bandana, same 60 bullet holes Aw, man, that's just a coincidence.
Oh yeah? What about the tats? - But dat ass doe - That ain't Machiavelli, my dude.
Watch, I'm finna prove it to you.
Yo, homey, where you from? Westside, mother[bleep.]
er.
And I'm on my period, partna.
See, the bitch a blood too.
Mmm-mm-mm.
Tupaquia's assies give me life.
You just vulnerable right now, Jamal, and them assies got you open.
I'm tellin' y'all, she Tupac! Look right here on Medeafakeout.
It say that Tupac was last seen with Biggie and Michael Jackson doing a drive-by in a Prius! Lies! Nigs don't even drive Prii.
I brought you guys Tang! [giggles.]
- [gasping.]
Oh! - Goddamn! What happened to your big-ass, deluxtable titties, Mrs.
Milk? Chill homey, that's my moms you talkin' to.
Yo, what the [bleep.]
happened to your big-ass deluxtable titties, Mom? Oh, uh let's just say, somebody kept their promise.
[chuckling.]
- Oop! - [together.]
Ew! Whoopsy! [laughing.]
Mmm, Titty Tang.
I wonder what she's like on the inside of dem cheeks.
Look, Tupaquia is Tupac! Insides and outsides.
I mean think about it, he faked his own death, dropped 20 albums from a compound in Thailand, and now with the collapse of the music biz, he tryin' to re-brand himself as an empowered bitch, making his bread on that pole.
- Milk, that is not Tupac - That is Tupac, homey [arguing over each other.]
Oh, I see what's goin' on.
Y'all want some peanut butter to go with all that jelly-sy? - Aye what, homey? - You trippin', Jamal.
There are plenty more mooseknuckles out there to choose from, my nigs.
So don't hate 'cause I was makin' it rain change on the baddest bitch in the game.
[groovy music.]
# Ooh, baby, yeah.
# Cindy, I thought you said if I broke it off with Jamal, he would miss all this good coochie and beg me to come back.
It's been a whole day.
I'ma call 'em.
[together.]
# Don't call 'em # No, you gotta be patient, Medina.
That's how you play hard to get.
I do it all the time.
But I don't want to be hard to get, and girl, yo man is gay.
[together.]
# He likes menzes # Damn it, y'all gonna make me nick a nipple.
Randy is not gay.
He just looks out for his homes.
Look, he just sent me a pic.
Well, I don't need Jamal to do no gay shit like that.
I just want him to call me sometimes.
He will, but not if you break down and call him first.
And can you please put a bra on that one? - Hey, Tupaquia! - I remember you.
You that fat dude that came in the other night with them other mark ass busters.
- Yeah, but you can call me Jamal.
- Sorry, Jamal, I'm busy.
Still counting all these damn nickels and dimes you gave me the other night.
Do I look like a Coinstar to you, nigga? I just came to tell you I had a really good time, Tupaquia.
And I have to admit, I had a couple of cream dreams thinkin' about you last night.
- Is that right? - Yep.
But I'd really like to see what you like on the inside.
Damn, ain't nobody ever wanted my insides before.
I mean the insides of these cheeks of course, but that's about it.
Speaking of cheeks, you want a private dance? What you think I brought this for? Hobbit strippin' is some bullshit! Come on, get your head in the game, Bilbo! You know what Tupaquia? I feel like we had a real connection.
Like a love at first twerk type of thing.
But you don't even know me, partna.
Yeah, but I can get to know you.
You a sweet mother[bleep.]
er, you know that? I been told.
But, hey, Tupaquia, are we almost done? I think I'm gettin' concussioned.
Naw nigga, you got two more songs.
Then you're taking me for ice cream, partna! That's why automatic soap dispensers are racist.
They have been programmed by the man to systematically deprive the black man of his antibacterial and moisturizing rights.
- Uh, sanitation segregation? - Exactly.
Oh, that's dirty, homes.
Hey, Malik, you know shit.
Is Tupac still alive? You really wanna know? Okay, look, we all know about 'Pac's affiliation with the Black Panthers, right? But not only was he a threat to the CIA, the Illuminati, and the unconscious black man, he was just about to revolutionize music by bringing attention to the inequality and corruption in the world.
Furthermore Goddamn, just tell me what happened to bruh! Okay, bring it in.
- Pac got shot.
- Man, you serious? Yep.
On the strip in Vegas.
11:15 p.
m.
It was a travesty.
- Man, you just wasted our time.
- I got information on Biggie too.
Jam Master Jay, Pimp C, Natalee Holloway, Chandra Levy, the Lindbergh baby.
What you need? "You are a strong, black woman.
You can do bad all by yourself.
" I don't wanna do bad all by myself.
I wanna do bad with Jamal.
I'ma call him.
Medina, no! - Siri, call Jamal.
- [voice.]
Don't call him.
Bitch, I said call him! [voice .]
Calling.
Please don't hurt Siri.
Jamal is not in right now.
Jamaaal! - Oh, no.
- Oh, yeah! WOMEN: # Call him # Then she told me to call Tyrone.
And I don't even know a Tyrone.
So it's over between y'all, right? 'Cause I need all eyes on me.
Yep, it ain't nothin' to cut that bitch off.
[laughs.]
I don't know if you can handle this unconditional love, Jamal.
I mean, I ain't like all these other square-ass hoes out here.
So if you wanna leave now, I ain't mad at ya.
What, just 'cause you grind on dudes' laps every night and occasionally give brain in the back? That's just yo nine to five.
I-I like you for you, Tupaquia.
Well that's good to know, homey.
'Cause I'd hate to get all emotionally invested in you and shit, only to find out I'm just a side boo.
Uh, never that, girl.
[phone vibrates.]
- Who was that, Jamal? - Uh, nobody.
Hey, how 'bout we paint the town red? Nah, partna, we stay blue'd up from the shoe up around here, cuz! Ooh, I love when you talk Cripity, caa.
[sniffing.]
BOTH: Damn! [music.]
[coughing.]
[sniffing.]
Look, 'Pac is alive.
Listen to what happens when I play his record backwards.
This is Tupac.
And I'm not dead.
Kobe went out like a G.
He scored 60.
Aww, man, anybody with GarageBand could've did that.
Okay, then, I ain't want to do this, but I'm 'bout to shoot up yo head with some truth, homey.
I ain't never showed nobody this, but peep game.
Man, what the [bleep.]
? You on some Wire type shit.
Yea, I been following this case my whole life.
And I got evidence.
Here he is at Harry Potter World.
And here he is yelling at Katt Williams while he getting beat up by a little boy at a soccer game.
And here he is at O-Beezy's Inaugural Ball.
You already know he smashed Michelle raw-dog.
- I don't know, Milk.
- Oh, you still ain't convinced? Okay, I got the 911 tape from when Lamar Odom OD'd at the Bunny Ranch.
And guess who made the call? Yo, is this 911? [woman screaming.]
I'm down here with Lamar Odom at the Bunny Ranch.
Can you come now? This nigga 'bout to die tonight.
Can you feel me? Damn, so maybe 'Pac is alive, but that don't mean - he shakin' his ass at the Mooseknuckle.
- All I know is, Tupac gonna be giving Jamal that Poetic Justice dick in the back of a mail truck like he Janet.
Or Ms.
Jackson, if you nasty.
[laughs.]
This the best date ever.
Yeah, you know, when I first came out on that stage and saw you, I thought, "He probably like all the other fat, nasty tricks that come in here, just waitin' to get a whiff of a stripper's essence.
" But you turned out to be a mother[bleep.]
er - I could [bleep.]
on, you know? - For realz? Hey look, it's, uh, it's open mic at Lo Lo's! Whoa, partna! [sniffing.]
you won't be able to stay at home, brothers and sisters.
[mumbling incoherently.]
side bitches will not be televised.
Thank you.
Uh, hey, can you spit a hot 16, Tupaquia? - Is a pig's pussy pork? - Uh, I don't know, but why don't you go way over there and get on the mic.
This goes out to my new boyfriend, Jamal.
Yo, DJ.
Drop that eat, partna.
[records scratching.]
Kill any bitch in Chamberlain 'Cause I'm your new girlfriend [bleep.]
wit Jamal you want yo' life to end Bitch, I'll kill you for Jamal Cut your mother[bleep.]
in' throat off My volvo make sure yo kids don't grow I'ma kill all you mother[bleep.]
ers Take your eyes off him, hoe Bitch, I swear to god I love Jamal, Jamal is my nigga Damn, my bitch got bars.
His bitch? Oh, I'm a show him some bars.
[records scratching.]
Who gotcha, make it hot fa' hoes like sriracha On barbecue meats in deez Chamberlain streets Got my nigga, iggin' all my texts and my tweets Bitch, I should drag yo head up and down all the streets Heartbeat soundin' like Medina's big feet Thundering, between yo fake cheeks This shit got to stop, or I'ma peel your top By time they call the cops, I'll be at the IHOP, bitch [all cheering.]
You is mines, Jamal! - Who was that bitch, Jamal? - Uh Biggie Smalls? - Jamal! - Okay, okay.
That was Medina, my ex.
Well, she wasn't actin' like no ex to me, partna! Hey, I got an idea.
Why don't we go somewhere that has witnesses and surveillance cams for my safety? Bitch, you ain't going nowhere! - You with me now, and we in love! - Tupaquia bitch, you crazy.
[laughs.]
Nigga, don't you ever call me crazy again or I'll blow your [bleep.]
in' brains out, partna! [chomps.]
Okay, so check this out, my dude, Suge Knight even said Pac was alive on BETMZs.
You know I hate snitchin', but lemme tell you something.
Everybody out here sayin' Suge killed Tupac.
When they know off top, I'm the nigga that protected Tupac.
Tupac not dead.
You know he somewhere smokin' a cigar on an island somewhere.
But, I do know the nigga that gave Easy E AIDS, though.
Speakin' of which, we ain't seen Jamal in school all day.
- You think he with Tupaquia? - Da fu I know you ain't squeezin' yo lemon in the boys' bathroom.
Medina, you pee standing up? I gotta long clitoris, nigga, don't worry about it.
Now, what y'all know 'bout this new bald-headed bitch Jamal been talkin' to? Don't tell her nathen.
Real ones don't snitch, my nig.
Yeah, we don't know everything 'bout nothin', Medina.
So y'all his best friends, and he ain't tell y'all about Tupakeisha? - You mean Tupaquia.
- Aha! So y'all do know the bitch! Way to go, Grover.
I guess next you gon' tell her she works at the Mooseknuckle, too, right? - Aww, dang.
- I gots all I need.
Damn.
We better find Jamal fast.
Yeah, before Tupac give 'em some of dat California love wit his dick.
[techno music.]
Yo, you and Tupaquia into some freaky shit.
You look like you seen a ghost, my nig.
And why yo eye look like Ray Rice wife? Oh, uh it fell down the steps.
My eye it can be so clumsy sometimes.
- I think 'Pac hit em up.
- Yep! I mean I hit myself up.
Come on, homey, we gotta get you up out of here.
Medina's on her way.
And we think Tupaquia packin'.
Yeah, I know.
I've seen her gun.
Nah, we talkin' 'bout that dick.
- Hold up, she has a dick? - Ehhh, Tupac got that dick.
Let's roll.
- You don't understand.
I can't - Everything cool, Jamal? Lovely, Tupaquia.
They were just saying bye.
Now be gone, biyatch.
Nah homey, we ain't goin' nowherez! - If Jamal stay, we all stay.
- Oh, is that right? I don't think y'all know who the [bleep.]
y'all [bleep.]
in' wit! Jamal is mine now and I'm ready to stand up, throw down, and die for his little fat ass! And I will take out anybody that gets in my way, whenever I feel like it! Just do what she says, guys.
She's crazy! [laughs.]
You right, maybe I am crazy.
But you know what else? - I don't give a [bleep.]
.
- I got some [bleep.]
s to give, bitch.
Medina? You lookin' kinda sexy.
Tupaquia, let's have a strip off.
You win, Jamal stays with yo coochie.
I win, he's comin' home with mines.
[laughs.]
Look at this, notorious P.
I.
G.
wants to have a booty battle.
Don't let the jelly rolls fool you.
- I know how to twerk 'em, ho.
- Let's go, partna.
[music.]
Uh, how you want? Mm, mm-hmm.
- Yeah, you like that? - I love that.
Ooh, look at them things bounce! Smell good.
[both laughing.]
[grunting.]
Okay, Grimace, well, let me see you do this.
Ooh, girl! Medina, no! [rumbling.]
Oh shit, she 'bout to bring the whole Mooseknuckle down.
This one's for you, Jamaaaal [screaming.]
[crash.]
Somebody call the ambulance! Damn, what if she don't never wake up? I know what'll wake her up.
[screams.]
[panting.]
- Did I win? - Hell no.
You might have lost the battle, girl, but you did win the Jamal.
I'm sorry for breakin' up with you, Jamal.
I just wanted to be your main boo.
Main Boo is earned, not given.
You know what, I guess calling and stalking you all the time, booking open mics at Lo Lo's, spitting a hot 16 like Biggie Smalls, and booty battling Mooseknuckles for you was just not enough.
'Tis true.
And I guess I shouldn't have moved on so fast.
- But you seen that ass, Medina - Jamal! [laughs.]
I'm just playin' wit you, my big chili Frito.
You know she ain't got nothi' on them back titties.
Aye, Tupac had you cupcakin' like Little Debbie.
You was actin' kinda Drake-y, my nig.
You was shook.
Nah, that was all a part of the plan to get Medina back.
Ain't nobody scared of no Tupaq - Get in the car, mother[bleep.]
er! - Okay.
Later, my nigs.
Damn.
Maybe it is Tupac.
Uh, Tupaquia, why you wearing that dress? We on our way to Mexico to tie the eternal knot of mother[bleep.]
in' love.
If you got a problem wit that, I hear heaven got a ghetto for you, partna! Nope, j-j-just makin' sure we was matchin'.
Look, Jamal, I know I'm marrying you against yo will at gun point, but it's the only way, since you don't wanna do it on yo own.
And you did say you like me for who I am, - so here I am, nigga.
- Tupaquia, that was a lie.
It's what dudes say to not sound so, uh, "superofficial.
" I was really just in love with that waist to cake ratio.
So you was playin' me! You think Tupaquia is some kinda game, Jamal, that you can just download on your phone for $9.
99 and just play all you want, huh? I'm sorry, Tupaquia.
Dat booty doe.
Well, if I can't have you, Jamal, I guess nobody will.
Westside mother [gunshots.]
Yeah, yeah, take that, take that, I thought I told you.
Damn, big Suge! [bleep.]
you, Diddy, you know I can't see, nigga! Tupaquia! I'm sorry it had to end like this.
- I didn't mean to hurt you.
- I know, Jamal.
And I still wish I could have shot yo ass.
But since my spine is severed and I'm coughing up blood, let's just call it even.
[coughing.]
Don't you die on me, Tupaquia! Don't worry about me.
I been here before.
I'll be fine.
Go be with your fat bitch.
[coughing.]
Y'all good for each other.
Keep yo head up, Tupaquia.
Uh-oh, one time's comin'.
[police sirens wailing.]
Lights! Have it your way Like Burger King And I'm yo supersize black fry Let's have a meal Let's have a meal Ah, ah, ah ooh! [smooching.]
[giggling.]
Oh, no, come on, man.
Aye, Guber driver, to the crib.
So, I guess we'll never know if Tupaquia was Tupac.
Yeah.
Aye, homey, you goin' the wrong way.
Where you taking us? Westside, mother[bleep.]
ers! [all screaming.]
[funky hip-hop music.]
[funky hip-hop music.]
[rhythmic smacking.]