Dope (2015) Script

I just read that money as we know it is dead.

Soon the world is only gonna buy and sell products using Bitcoins.

It's like a complicated math equation.

So, one day we're gonna buy things with numbers from a math equation?

Dope, right?

Malcolm Adekanbi is a geek.

Malcolm lives with his single mother and has only one memory of his father.

Malcolm lives in Inglewood, California, in the Darby-Dixon neighborhood referred to as The Bottoms.

Give me your bike, nigga!

Malcolm's friends, Jib and Diggy, are also geeks.



All I want to do is a zoom, zoom, zoom and the boom, boom.


Malcolm, Jib and Diggy... are all deeply obsessed with '90s hip-hop culture, submerging themselves in the music, watching old Yo! MTV Raps episodes for fashion tips... and using the slang.

Huh? Bro, that shit was whack.

What? They were biting Brand Nubian.

That's not even possible.

Jackpot, niggas.

Gushy, gushy. Mmm!

Oh, did I mention that Diggy was a lesbian?

Although from the way she dresses, you might not have noticed she's a girl.

Save her, Lord! Yo, hallelujah! Hallelujah!

Every Sunday, her grandmother asks the church to lay their hands on her... in order to pray away the gay.

Praise the Lord!

- So, did it work? You know.

I was watching Justin Bieber the other night and I got a little moist.

Yeah? So maybe.

That's just because he's a little ho. That's true.

He's a very pretty nigga. Yes, he is.

What's up, boss?

For most geeks, a bad day might be being the butt of jokes in class, the occasional food prank and the worst... being beat up by a jock.

But when you live in The Bottoms, a bad day might be accidentally getting killed.

Like Wytony Johnson, who got shot buying a pastrami cheeseburger... from Jimmy's Burger on Centinela.

Hey! It's the Rollin' 60s, dumb-ass niggas!

The real tragedy is... that he was seconds away from defeating Ganon.

He had a hell of a comic book collection.

Jib has been trying to talk Wytony's mom into giving them to him... for the past two weeks.

Malcolm, Jib and Diggy don't play sports and they aren't in a gang.

They're always getting ridiculed by their peers because they're into white shit... like skateboards, manga comics, Donald Glover... and for listening to white shit like Trash Talk, TV on the Radio... and for doing white shit like getting good grades and applying to college.

Malcolm, Jib and Diggy used to be in the school marching band, but quit in protest after refusing to play the Harlem Shake.

They arranged to use the music room during lunch... for their recently formed punk band, Awreeoh.

One, two. One, two, three, four!

Hey-hey! You know the program, niggas.

Shoe program. Turn around.

Let me see what the fuck you working with.

Oh, shit, man. All these motherfuckers got small feet around this bitch.

Goddamn. Nigga, I don't know why you was looking.

Hey-hey! My nigga, my G.

Oh, man. Where the fuck you goin', man?

Goddamn. What's up with you?

Hey, them last shoes you gave me, man, I was feeling them.

Classics. The Force 2s? Yeah, I was liking those.

What's these you got on?

Bro, these are straight from the flea market.

Shut the fuck up, nigga. These the J-3s with the red mark on 'em.

Oh, yes.

Come up out those right now.

Right now, nigga! You speak English?

Do I gotta beat the shit out of you again and take them?


This nigga's speaking African or some shit, like he don't speak what we speak.

This nigga always...


Go, Dig! Come on!

Dig! Go!

Come on, Dig!

Oh, shit!

Hey, hey. Hold up, hold up. Get your fuckin' hands off me, man!

Don't think I won't beat your ass, Marquis!

I came up with your daddy. You better ask him about Stacey.

And see what's what around this motherfucker!

Let's go, man.

I'm gon' get the other one, you little, bitch-ass nigga.

Go, man.

Malcolm, when I see stuff like this personal essay, I think you're not taking the process seriously.

I'm... I'm taking it seriously, Mr. Bailey. I promise.

I'm talking about something that I love.

I mean, it's well-reasoned, supported with historical data, it shows creativity, critical thinking.

If Neil deGrasse Tyson was writing about Ice Cube, this is what it would look like.

I suggest you go in a different direction.

Write something personal about you.

Your family, your life.

I mean, I... I could write about the typical...

"I'm from a poor, crime-filled neighborhood, raised by a single mother, don't know my dad" blah-blah.

It's cliché.

This here, this... This is...

This is creative. This shows that I'm different.

This is the kind of essay that Harvard wants from their students.

Malcolm, I'm gonna be honest with you.

You're pretty damn arrogant. You think you're gonna get into Harvard?

Who do you think you are? Hmm?

You go to high school in Inglewood.

To the admissions committee, your straight A's, they don't mean shit.

If you're really serious about this exercise and you're not just wasting my time, or yours, then it's gonna be about your personal statement, your SAT scores, your recommendations... and most importantly your alumni interview tomorrow.

Are you ready? I'm ready.

You'd better be.

I just found out you're interviewing with Austin Jacoby.

He's from Inglewood too, so he'll be able to relate to your circumstances.

Jacoby Check Cashing?

Harvard? Really?

I'm sorry. They don't all go on to be president.

On this day, their usual route home is blocked by a Blood gathering.

They were shooting a video for their YouTube channel.

Well, where do you want to go?

Some nigga really needs to invent an app like Waze to avoid all these hood traps.

The only way to get home is down 104th Street.

But that's where the dope dealers are... who, for sport, routinely try to steal their bikes.

Go! Hey, little nigga.

Such is the life of a geek in The Bottoms. Come here.

A daily navigation between bad and worse choices.

Come here, little nigga.

Yo, man.

I be seein' you and your little friends with y'all flattops and MC Hammer pants, riding around in this shit, looking like y'all came out of a DeLorean or some shit.

You know, the '90s was like the golden age of hip-hop.

Everything from It Takes a Nation of Millions... to The Blueprint was killing it.

I guess me and my friends just wish we grew up back then.

It Takes a Nation came out in '88.

Blueprint came out 2001.

What the fuck are you talkin' 'bout right now?

Technically, um...

But, you know, the spirit of the music was definitely still '90s.

I mean, It Takes a Nation, Straight Outta Compton...

Paid in Full was ahead of their time.

And then you got Snoop, Biggie, Wu-Tang.

They took the game to the next level.

Blueprint was kind of like the punctuation mark.

Let's not forget, the '90s also gave us...

Vanilla Ice, MC Hammer... and we can't forget about the Fresh Prince.

Everything in the '90s wasn't great, but... Oh, shit.

But you gotta admit "Summertime" was a classic.

What's your name, little nigga?

Uh, it's Malcolm.

Look here, Malcolm. I want you to do a favor for me.

You see that green apartment there in the middle of the block?

There's a nice little piece over there.

I want you to go up to her and tell her that Dom wants to talk to her.

Uh, th-that's... that's it?

Yeah, nigga. Can you handle that?

Uh... y-yeah.

Get to pedalin', nigga.

Drop that up here.


You gonna say something or just stare at me?

Um, Dom says... that he would like you to come over and talk to him.

Well, why don't you tell Dom that if he wants to talk to me, he can come over here and be a fucking man... and not send a little kid to talk for him?

Tell him just like that.

She said that shit?

And that Dominique was way cooler before he became Dom.

And, um, that if you think that she cares about your dope money, sh-she doesn't.

Listen, tell her that I'm throwing a birthday party at Verse tonight... and I would really enjoy the pleasure of her company.

Go ahead, nigga.

You should, uh... You should work inside out.

Do the stuff in the brackets first and then square the sum.


Okay. Thanks.

Oh! Uh...

Dom says he's throwing a birthday party tonight at Verse.


He said he'd really love the, uh... the pleasure of your company.

That nigga did not say that.

He did. I s...

I swear. He...


Well, I'll go if you go.

I'll save you a dance.

You are going.

We are going.

She metaphorically showed you her pussy and said, "Come and fuck me."

Jib, um, this is Dom we're talking about.

We're not going to a drug dealer's birthday party.

That's... You're trippin'.

We're in our senior year, bitches. Okay?

It is time we started expanding our horizons. No.

Call your mom and tell her you're... you're studying late at my place.

Come on. Dig? Huh?

Look, it's better than what you normally do at night, so...


Looking beautiful. Oh!

One, two and tres.

Been working on my Spa... Whoa, whoa, whoa!

What you doing? You let them in without checking the list.

What's up?

Okay, let me educate you real quick.

I am the gatekeeper, I'm the grandmaster, the authority... in keeping a proper nigga-to-ho ratio.

You understand what I'm saying?

So unless you little niggas got some pussies, I'm gon' need y'all to get the fuck...

I have one.

I know y'all some bitches, but you ain't gotta say you got pussies.

She... She's a girl.


This little nigga's a bitch!

Like... Like Boys Don't Cry like a motherfucker.

Remember when we was seein' that shit? Yeah, I remember that.

Nigga, what the fuck. Let us in.

Oh, well, yeah, yeah. You know, it's 21 and older.

I'm gon' need some ID, some verification.

Uh... Oh.

Wait. Y'all don't have no IDs?

Aw! Sorry! I'm gon' need y'all to get the fuck off.

Come on. Get the fuck off.

There's a Baskin-Robbins down the street. Enjoy yourselves.

Hey, man, don't this dude look like the dude that danced in Santa Monica?

Breakdance? Don't he look like... What the fuck.

You're coming in, right?

Get the fuck outta here, man!

Get the fuck outta here, man.

Old Coolio-looking motherfucker. Hey, baby. You're looking good.

Thank you.

Digs. Digs. Digs. Jib. Jib. Come on, come on.

Hey. Hey, w-wait... Hey!

Yo, yo, yo. It's cool. It's cool. Let 'em in.

Look, I ca... I can't let you do that.

These kids are underage and I cannot lose my license tonight.

Not tonight.

I don't mind having this discussion with you.

I actually enjoy the thoughtful exchange of ideas.

And you do bring up a valid point. Know what I'm sayin'?

But see, you put me in a bit of a spot, nigga.

'Cause I can't have you back-talkin' me in front of my niggas... without at least fuckin' your ass up.

You feel me? You don't have to do that.

I kinda do though. I don't want to. It's my birthday and shit.

But there's principles to this shit, and I'm a principled man.

They in, Dom. It's all good. I know they got in. That's my point.

But I got this nigga telling me what he can't let me do and shit. Like I give a fuck.

Man, if I let this shit slide, we got what they call a slippery slope.

You know what a slippery slope is, nigga?

No. I don't... I don't know what a slippery...


Do it got anything to do with skiing?

Nigga, sit your ass down, man.

I know using your brain is a challenge and shit.

You use skis on a slope... You might fuck around, give yourself a concussion.

It's a small event that leads to a chain reaction of events... with unintended consequences... that were unforeseen at the time of the inciting event.

See, this is a smart little nigga right in here, bro.

You probably got one of them "photogetic" brains or some shit, huh?

You mean photographic memory?

Nigga, what I just say? I mean, yeah, y-you said it.

I'm reiterating that...

I'm still a little shaky on the concept.

Basically, if I let this nigga slide, man, then I'm going to have the next nigga coming along, thinking they can pop off and shit, you know what I'm sayin'?

And so on and so forth.


Oh, shit. Hey, little nigga, you coming in?

Yo, it's cool. You coming in, Malcolm?

Nigga, come on.


Nigga, school's out. What the fuck you doing with a bag on?

Hey, throw this behind the bar for my little homey.

Yo, let me get a round of shots. Cheers.


So, are you gonna ask me to dance or what?

I think you said something about me... being man enough to come talk to you.

Can I have this dance, Nakia? It's my birthday, you know.

Hey, uh...

We were dancing, man.

Kids say the darndest things, don't they?

See, this is what happens when you don't spank your children.

Anyways... Why do you have to talk to him like that?

You look nice tonight. Dom.

Boom! Damn, nigga, that was ill.

This nigga doesn't know what hit him. Check this nigga out.

He's walking his jihad dog and shit, scratching his nuts.

Yahtzee, nigga. Ooh, this shit crazy.

Yo, man, straight up, I really used to think Obama was a bitch, man.

Drones though, nigga?

That's some gangsta shit. I need one of those motherfuckers.

This shit ain't funny.

It's fucked up if you really think about it.

How, nigga? He killing all them Al-Qaedas and shit.

Nigga, that ain't all that gets killed.

And that nigga's saying he can drone-strike Americans too.

They killed an American working with them niggas in Yemen.

Man, he was a terrorist, dawg. So it's like set trippin'.

You can't decide to be a Blood... and then get mad if the Crips try to kill you and shit.

Man, all I'm saying is... this shit started somewhere like Pakistan or some shit.

And before you know it, they'll start saying that we're the terrorists.

They're gonna have planes riding all around Inglewood, droppin' bombs on Crenshaw and shit, man.

Ah, slippery slope. Exact, nigga.

Shit, I wish a nigga would try to fly drones in my hood.

Fuck that. Hell yeah.

I wish I would see one of them motherfuckers in Inglewood, man.

For real. Don't let them niggas come to my hood.

What you got there?

Ah! Whoo!

Breakfast Club, nigga. Molly Ringwald.

So, this the latest and greatest shit, huh? Yes, sir.

Pure as a nun's pussy. Know what I'm sayin'?

This ain't like that ghetto shit y'all niggas been fucking with either, man.

This is that A-1 shit.

A.J. say you ready to move out the D-league and move up to the NBA.

Oh, shit. Jesus!

Get the fuck out of here! Let's move. Go!

Nakia! Nakia.

Are you all right? Yeah, I'm fine.


Shit. Come on. I drove.

Thanks for helping me.

Most of those niggas just saw me and stepped over me.

Luckily for you, I'm not one of those niggas.

Oh, really?

What are you, then? I don't know.

I'm just... I'm black as fuck, right?

Uh, I guess I'm just used to hearing that, uh, niggas don't listen to this, niggas don't do that, niggas don't go to college unless they play ball or whatever.

It's just time to accept it. I'm just not one of those niggas.

Well, me neither then.

'Cause I'm going to college.

Just gotta get my GED first.

That's what you were studying for. Mm-hmm. Yeah.

If I pass, I'll go to El Camino or Santa Monica or something.

Transfer to Dominguez or Northridge.

Well, you shouldn't sell yourself short.

You could do better.

You hardly know me. So how can you say that?

I can just tell.

You shouldn't settle for what's expected.

Like Dom, right?


I didn't say that.

Don't try and be slick.

You're trying to block him.

So, you two...

Y-You guys... It's complicated.

But trust me, he's got nothing on you.

You probably got all the girls lined up asking you to prom and shit.

You making fun of me? N-No.

I'm sorry.

Hey, I didn't go to my prom.

You didn't go to your prom? Seriously.

I had one guy ask me... Anthony Davis... and he fucking stood me up.

I didn't even care about missing prom.

I was more mad about not going to Six Flags the next day.

All my friends had dates. I didn't want to go alone.

Would you want to go to prom with me?

I mean, I...

I know that I'm not complicated or... But...

It's just with studying and all, I don't think I'll have time.

But thank you.

What if I helped you study? And what if you passed the GED?

Would you go with me then?

I'll think about it.


Oh, shit. Oh, shit.

Oh, shit.

Three words. Did you fuck?

You're a pussy, nigga. Come on, man.

She let me feel her titties and finger-bang her.

Bullshit. No, I'm dead-ass serious.

Smell my fingers. I don't smell shit.

Just cream. You never smelled pussy before.

Wait. I have.

I don't smell shit.

See, she don't smell shit either. 'Cause you only know your pussy.


Wait, wait, wait. Hold it. Whoa, whoa.

Wait a minute. You two go back through, one at a time.

One at a time.

What's getting into you? Come on.

Hey, hey. Calm down.

Go. Everybody else wait. Turn around, go back.

We gotta do pat-downs. The machine is broke.

Oh, shit.

Oh, shit. Oh, shit.

Yo, yo, yo. Oh, shit!

What's wrong? What?

Oh, shit.

Fuck! Is that real?

Boy, how'd you get this shit? I have no fucking clue, Jib. No fucking clue.

What do you mean you don't have a fucking clue?

I have no fucking clue where that gun came from.

Or the drugs.

Drop your weapons!

Get the fuck outta here. Let's move. Go!

Last night at... At the fucking party.

At the party. Dom put that shit in my bag. Had to be.

Well, we gotta get rid of it then. You know? Dump it, or...

Or take it to the police. Yeah. Let's take it to the police.

Are you joking?

You want three niggas to take a bag full of dope and a gun... to the fucking police station?

Like, "Here you go"? N...

And... And you don't expect Dom to find out who snitched?

Well, what do you wanna do with it? Yo, that's a lot of weight.

It's like 20, 30 keys. I don't know.

It's a lot of shit, right? I don't know, Dig.

I don't know anything about this shit.

All I know is Jeezy paid LeBron and Jay paid Dwyane Wade.

What? He was talking about dope?


I-I-I-I answered it.

You did what? I don't want that shit.


Hello? Who the fuck is this?

U-Um, who is this?

This the nigga that's gon' fuck you up, you keep asking questions.

Now, who the fuck is this?

I prefer not to say.

Okay, I see how we gon' do this then.

If this ain't a nigga named Malcolm at Yukon and 104th Street, then I'm gon' kill your ass.

How do you know where I am? Find an iPhone.

Steve Jobs a motherfucking genius. Oh, shit.

Now, if this a nigga named Malcolm, say, "Damn right."

Otherwise, click-click-boom.

Damn right. Damn right, my name is Malcolm.

Malcolm. Malcolm!

How you feeling, man?

Dom told me there was a mix-up. You accidentally took my lunch. That true?

Took your lunch? Yeah, my lunch.

A nigga hungry. Yes. Yes, I...

Yeah. Uh-huh. Baloney sandwich. Mm-hmm.

Baloney. It got cheese on it?

Yeah. Mm-hmm.

We talking about the same sandwich, nigga?

'Cause I ain't ask for no cheese.

I find that my fucking sandwich got cheese on it, I'm gon' kill your ass.

I don't know.

You just... You know, there's a bag and...

What? What?

You're the one wanted to get all cute, talkin' 'bout baloney sandwiches and shit.

I just asked you if you had my lunch. Yeah.

Yeah, you're right. You're right.

Uh, your lunch. It's right here. I'm looking at it right now.


Now, after school, you're gon' see a red El Camino parked... and this handsome-ass nigga inside.

That ain't Lance Gross, nigga. That's yours truly.

Just walk up, hand me the baloney sandwich and be on your way.

You have a nice, happy, productive life with a hell of a story to tell.

You got it? Yeah. Yeah, I got it.

Red El Camino after school. Cool.

It's almost over, little nigga.

You did good.

What the fuck did we get ourselves into, man?

I don't see it.

Where is it?

Yo, he's over there.

Where? To the right.

Oh, I see him.

You good? Yeah. Yeah, let's go.

You good? All right. Yeah.

He asked for you alone, you know?

I got your back and all. It's just I don't wanna mess with his explicit instructions.

You'll be fine, bro.


You're just dropping it off. You're good.

Uh, hey. Yeah.

I'm, uh... I got your lunch.

I'm walking to the red El Camino right now.

What you say?

Who's this? This is Dom, man.

Look, do you have what I left in the backpack?

Yeah. Yeah. You in the red El Camino?

What the fuck you talking about?

Somebody called me earlier saying I need to bring him the sandwich.

Nigga, why the fuck are you talking about sandwiches right now?

The... The backpack.

He... The guy, he said that I needed to bring it to him after school.

He'd be in a red El Camino.

Yo, McFly, I want you to listen to what I'm about to tell you right now.

Somebody snitched.

I'm in County right now. I don't know who the fuck called you.

There's two possibilities.

Either the motherfucker in the El Camino is POPO...

As soon as you give him the package, he gon' arrest you.

Or that motherfucker's the snitch.

In that case, he'll take the package, kill you, then I'm headed to Chino with a price on my head.

I'm gon' need you to trust me right about now, you understand?

Do not take that backpack to the nigga in the whip, else we both fucked. Hear me?

I'm gonna text you this address.

Go there, ask for A.J. Tell him it's about the Boys Club.

Give him the package. Tell him it's from me. You hear me?

Nigga, run. Get the fuck out of there, nigga.

Run. Go now! Get the fuck out of there! Oh, shit.

Go! Oh, shit. Oh, shit!

Oh, shit. Oh, shit. Oh, shit.

Go! Let's go! Come on!

Go, Jib!

Get the fuck back over here! Oh, shit!

Let's go! Let's go! Move the fucking car!

Let's go!

Come on!

Yo, man, what the hell happened? Who the fuck was that?

Dom. What?


That nigga called me and said that the nigga that called earlier isn't with him.

Well, then who is he?

Oh, shit.

Oh, shit.

How the fuck did they find us? Yo, let's go.

Jib! Dig! Bus!

There. Right here. Right ahead.

It's that bus. It's that bus.

Right there. Right there. They on that bus!

Let's go, let's go, let's go.

Open the fucking door!

Open the fucking door, bitch!

You see three little niggas get on this bus a couple stops ago?

I don't know. Lot of young niggas get on this bus.

Don't get smart. I'm just asking you a motherfucking question, all right?

I don't see shit but the road.

He's here.

Is it you? Huh?

Is it you? Huh? Is it fuckin' you?

Congratulations. You have found your iPhone.


Yo, Lily, what are you doing opening the door butt-ass naked for?

Excuse my dumb-ass sister, man. What up?

Are you A.J.?

No, that's my dad.

I need to speak to him.

It's about Boys Club.

Right. Right.

Well, my dad's at his office for a couple of hours.

But y'all can hang out here until he gets back if you want.

Um... No.

You know...

Hey. Yeah.

You wanna come in? Yeah. Yeah.

Y'all come in.

You Piru? Crenshaw Mafia?

Uh, I'm just Malcolm.

That's your hood, though. Right? Right?


Yeah. Yeah.


In the guest house is where I got my studio.

That's where I lay down my tracks.

I fuck around with it, you know. I do my little thing.

My style is, I'm like a Dilla meets a No ID with a little bit of splash of Rick Rubin.

Right. Know what I mean?

I actually got something that I did the other day. Check this out.

Yeah, what the fuck is "bereal"?

Oh, shit. Look. I meant "cereal."

But that's how much I hate crab-ass niggas.

'Cause my mind, it thinks these C-words, but my mouth won't let me say them.

Okay, so, you replace words that start with C's with B's?

Like Crip dyslexia. Criplexia.

But only soft C's, because you said "crab" no problem.

That's true. Why won't your mind tell your mouth to say "brab" instead of "crab"?

I don't know. It's a case-by-case thing. Not "base-by-base"?

See, you would think this hard "C" would be the issue, but no.

That's interesting.

Fuck y'all. I'm just tryin' to rep my set. That's it.

Ladera doesn't have a set. What the fuck you mean?


Does that make me any less of a nigga than y'all? No.

Because my dad was from The Bottoms. Yeah.

My uncle, everybody on my side reppin' the Inglewood family.

'Cause that's where my heart is. Yeah.

Even though my... My body's right here.

Mm-hmm. It's cool.

I-It's "bool."

Fuck all y'all. 'Cause I was in a good mood and shit.

What was that?

A song that we... You just reminded us of something we was writing.

"Was"? Let's... Let's get to it.

What you mean? Let's record.

Let's record what? The song.

Quit fucking around. Come on.


Check this out.

Little niggas. Got 'em.

I know y'all hungry. If you want, you can just help yourself to my fridge.

Or I could have Marta cook us up something.

Can she cook chili-cheese fries? Chili-cheese fries. Yeah.

Marta! Yeah.

Right? Where you get 'em at?

Jimmy's Burgers on Centinela and Inglewood Avenue.

Yes, um... Cuatro órdenes de chili-cheese fries... at Jimmy's Burgers on Centinela and Inglewood.

Niggas, let's roll. You coming, Malcolm?

No, I think I'm gonna stay here.

So... you're a boy from the hood.

Good thing you found the Boys Club and have such an amazing mentor as my father.

I'm bored as fuck.

Will you play with me, my little boy from the hood?


Yeah, we...

I can... Well, what do you want to play?

How about we play Mother May I?

You remember that game, right?


S... Yeah.

Go ahead. Ask me a question.

Um... what's your name?


No, you're supposed to ask me something like, "Mother, may I take two steps?"

If I say yes, you take two steps toward me.

Or I may say, "No, you have to take three steps back."

Now it's my turn to ask the questions.


Got it? Yeah.

May I take off my clothes?



May I walk over to you?


May I touch you?


Are you a virgin?



Don't do that.

There are too many liars and bullshitters in this house, Malcolm.

I can tell you're not like that.

Not like him.

Don't start now, okay?


Yes, I'm a virgin.

I gotta pee.

Jaleel keeps rubbers over there.

I want you ready when I get back.


Can we get some chili-cheese fries?

Burgers too. All right, we'll get, uh...

Yo, can I get a grilled cheese?

What the fuck is this?

We got a problem, blood?

Listen to this motherfuckin' Abercrombie and Fitch-ass nigga.

You little niggas were supposed to deliver my lunch today.

After school.

Now, I need my shit.

Right now, nigga.

Right now.

What the fuck are you even talking about, nigga? You hungry?

She's right there. Order some shit.

Order some shit? See, first of all, you do not know me, bro.

Let me tell you what's going down. All right?

We're gon' order our food.

And then you can order your lunch or whatever the fuck else.

A'ight? Then we gon' keep it pushin'.

Where is my bag?

Yo. What's in the backpack?

That's for my dad, right?





What the fuck? What are you doing?

Look... You don't know what you...

This is your... Oh, my God!

This can't even be happening. Look... Look at you.

Come on... What is wrong with you?

Have you ever fucked on Molly? I haven't fucked on anything. Remember?


Okay. All right.

What the fuck!

You... You threw up on me!

It's everywhere! It's all in my mouth!

Who the fuck is this?

Son of a... Why are you yelling at me?

I don't know you, Mr. Bailey, but you're being very rude.

What the fuck! Bye.

Yes, this is Malcolm. Malcolm! Come here.

Yes, can I reschedule, please?

Mr. Bailey, come on...


Wait. Wait.

I have to go. I have to go. Wait. We're not done yet.

Where are you going? Stop being so mean. I have to go.

I spaced on my college interviews!

I spaced on my college interviews.

I only have 20 minutes to get down there or my whole life is fucked.

I'll take you.


I'll take you.

Whee! Lily! Lily, get up!

Oh, Lily! It's a stop sign! Lily, stop. Stop!


Oh, shit.

Oh, shit.



Lily! I gotta pee! I gotta pee!

Get out of my house! Let me use the toilet!

Lily! Get back!

Lily! I gotta pee! I gotta pee! I gotta pee!

I gotta pee! I gotta pee! I gotta pee! I gotta pee!

What the fuck?

Tell you what's going down. We gon' order our food.

And then you can order your lunch or whatever the fuck else.

A'ight? Then we gon' keep it pushin'.


Shut your fuckin'...

Diggy, fries, fries, fries!

I want my motherfucking dope! I want my fucking dope!

Shit, where the fuck is Jaleel?

Fuck! That was our ride. What the f...

Run, run, run!

Freeze! Down on your knees! Keep your hands up!

What the fuck?

Mr. Jacoby's just wrapping up a staff meeting. He'll be a few minutes.


Is that... Is that Dom?

Oh, shit.

Austin Jacoby.

Nice to meet you, Malcolm.

Take a seat. Come on, relax.

So, uh... Malcolm Adekanbi.

Did I pronounce that right?

Yeah? Great.

You're Nigerian.

My dad, um...

He... He went back to Nigeria before I was born.

Sorry to hear that.

I know what it's like to grow up without a father.

That's why I spend a lot of time and a lot of money with the Boys Club.

Those, um... Those kids...

A-Are they your kids? Yes, they are.

Not too much older than you.

So you know Dominique?

Excuse me?

You... You probably know him as Dom.

No. Sorry. Why do you ask?

Dom gave me something... to deliver to someone.

As crazy as it seems, I-I think that someone is you.

This Dom person...

What did he say that, uh, I should have to do with this, uh, delivery?

I don't know.

I just know that he told me to deliver it to A.J., so...

And why did you do it?

I didn't have a choice. Oh, come on, Malcolm.

Come on. You always have a choice.

You could have done a lot of things with that package.

You're a smart kid. I'm sure you thought about all of them.

But you chose to make the delivery for this Dom person... because you thought it was, what, in your best interest?

So, you should take responsibility... for the choice that you've made.

Now, you know I'm not the person or persons... for whom this delivery was intended.

Something happened along the way.

It's like, uh, Amazon.

If you order a Rick Ross or Macklemore CD...

I would not order a Macklemore CD.

That wouldn't happen.

All right. Who, then?

Casey Veggies.

Casey Veggies? That's... That's an artist?

Yeah. Yeah, okay. All right.

So, you order a Casey Veggies CD from Amazon, right?

No, you don't order a Casey Veggies CD.

You just go online and you download it.

Yeah, okay. All right.

But you are aware that Amazon does ship discs, right?

And if you order that disc and it does not come in a timely fashion, you're gonna call them and say, "Where's my stuff?"

And Amazon has to assume responsibility.

But it's just one CD.

But what if it's 100 orders and 100 CDs don't show up?

Or a thousand? Or 10,000?

It's a slippery slope.

Slippery slope.

So, Amazon has got to assume... the full cost of the loss.

But most importantly, they have to deal with the loss of their reputation.

A reputation that has taken a long time to build.

You understand what I'm saying?

So let's do this.

Let's reschedule this interview... for a few weeks from now.

Give it a little time.

Go out there.

Make the delivery for which you have claimed responsibility... to the appropriate consumers... so that the suppliers of this product... can be whole.

Metaphorically speaking, of course.

If you're able to do this, it shows me more about you... than any interview ever could.

And I would then make it my business... to make you a man of Harvard.

I want you to get out of The Bottoms just like I did.

I know from growing up there it's very, very dangerous... and that your family or your friends could get killed at any moment... just by being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

I'd hate for that to happen to you... or any of your family members.

Getting on?

Looks like you and I had the same kind of day.

How'd the interview go?


Well, sit down.

My shift's almost over. I'll take you home.

Thanks, Mom.

The incident took place today at Seven Bucks Coffee...

Apparently the side effects of the popular club drug MDMA, or "Molly."

Tannehill James was a witness to this bizarre scene.

So, I'm here at the Seven Bucks, drinking my vanilla chai latte... and eating me some pound cake.

'Cause you know niggas don't eat scones, right?

When all of a sudden this crazy little naked ho comes up... and she squatted down right in front of me and she pissed right there.

I swear to God.

Pissed right there for a long time.

So, now, you tell me how am I supposed to eat my pound cake... after witnessing something like that?

Reporting live, Karen Myetta, Channel 10 News.

Up next, a fight over lunch turns deadly in Inglewood.

Did he actually say, "I'll kill you and your friends if you don't sell these drugs"?

Or just you? What?

Don't act like you weren't curious too. Not directly.

He was talking about Amazon and Rick Ross CDs not getting to their customers.

Niggas don't even buy CDs anymore, dawg.

Jib, that's not the fucking point!

Are you gonna go and sell on the corner? 'Cause we're a bunch of bitches, man.

Speak for yourself, Jib. Yes.

I am a bitch-ass nigga. I don't give a fuck. I own that shit.

Who are you trying to impress, Diggy?

We're talking about Molly, Jib, not fucking heroin.

All we gotta do is find the white people.

Go to Coachella, Lollapalooza. Yeah, yeah.

We can backpack and hitchhike and sing Mumford and Sons songs and all that faux fucking shit.

Fuck you. Okay? I'm just saying it could work.

Yeah, yeah. Why stop there, you know? Why not hit Bonnaroo also?


That's how we do it. Do what?

Oh, shit.

There's these sites where you can... you can sell everything... from fake credit cards to illegal guns and drugs.

And they use Bitcoins so they can't be traced.

We don't have to stand on any corner.

Dark Web. Could work.

Way better than Coachella.

Guys, the FBI can track us. The police... No, they can't.

Not if you use a Tor browser. What the fuck is that?

Onion routing. Layered encryptions.

It's like a game of Whac-A-Mole with thousands of computers...

What the fuck is a Whac-A-Mole?

Look, these dark Web sites run off these secret IP addresses.

Like LulzSec-level shady.

We need to find one somehow.


William Ian Sherwood III.

Musician, scholar, rake, entrepreneur, conspiracy theorist.

Malcolm, Jib and Diggy met William at band camp three years ago.

Yo, if you niggas need some weed, I got you. Good shit. Fair prices.

William assured them that he used the word "nigga"... only as a term of endearment... as explained by Q-Tip in the classic song, "Sucka Nigga."

That's your room right there.

After that, they all hit it off.

Though he never used that word in front of them again.

The mission at band camp was to give kids from different backgrounds... a chance to exchange music and experiences unique to their cultures.

W-W-Wait. Okay, so you're saying white girls will suck dick... yet still claim they're virgins?

Yeah, man. I'm serious. Really?

Dude, check it. I've been getting head since I was, like, 12, all right?

I've been hitting hos in the ass since I was, like, 14.

It's true, man.

These chicks will let you fill any hole, except the pussy, with a dick, no problem.

So, technically, you're still a virgin too.

Yeah. Right.

But here's something to wrap your brain around, man.

I've never had intercourse with a pussy.

Mm-hmm? Only asshole and oral. Okay?

So the question isn't, "Am I technically a virgin?"

What the question could be is...

"Am I technically... gay?"

Oh. That's deep, nigga.

Yeah. I don't know.

William went to... Prep school, where he smoked a pound of weed a week, skipped classes... and had a 1.9 GPA, yet got a perfect score on his SAT.

He was accepted to his father's alma mater under academic probation, which meant he had to maintain a 3.0 grade point average.

So, William hacked into the... database, erasing all grades from the entire freshman class.

Small-batch, craft-brewed, 40-ounce malt liquor.

That same year, he achieved his dream of having sex with a black girl.

You ever fucked on Molly before?


Hey, nah, it's good, man.

It's like... It's like being fucked by God.

Everybody is going to Black Market Reloaded and a bunch of smaller sites.

But, dude, that shit is getting mad sketchy now.

If you nigga...

If you guys want drugs, I can get you good shit way less expensive than online.

Nigga, we don't need to buy anything.

We need to set up a store to sell.

Wha... Nah, really, dude. What can I get you, man?

I'm dead-ass serious, nigga.

Dead-ass serious.


Okay. All right. Wait.

'Cause this is ridiculous, man.

Why the fuck, after all these years, you can call me N-word and I can't say it?

Yo, look, we already went over this.

I'll have to slap the shit out of you again. I don't want to do that.

See, that's not even right. I mean, like, really.

You know I'm not the one, all right? This is all love here.

Look, let's... Let's get back...

Hey, you asked me to do something for you.

I'm like, "What?" I'm down. I don't give a fuck.

Because you're my people, all right? You're my n...

And this is where I would insert that word.

It's nothing personal. You're still my nigga.

But I gotta slap the shit out of you based on principle.

Let's get back to what's goin' on. No, no, no. Wait. Principle?

Okay, you want to talk principle. What about Jib here, man?

This dude isn't African-American.

He's like fucking Latino or Moroccan or some shit.

Where's this conversation going?

Technically, he shouldn't be able to say the word.

Why can he use it? Okay. Because I'm 14% African.

Four... Fourteen? That doesn't...

Shit, I'm probably 14%.

I am 14% African.

Look, we don't give a fuck.

For real? Just say the damn word, okay?

It doesn't matter. It's cool, right? I don't give a shit.

I give a fuck. Don't say that shit. I will slap the shit out of you.

No, no, no. No, you won't because you have been outvoted by your peers.

I'm George W. Bush. I don't give a fuck what the vote says.

Dig. What the fuck?

Let him say it.

All right, you can say it. Thank you.

And I appreciate that. I really do.

Now, like a nigga was saying...

What the fuck!

What the fuck?

What the fuck? Yo, it was a reflex.

Reflex? A fuckin' reflex? Dig!

It won't happen again. I'm sorry.

Look. Will, we need your help to sell this shit.

That's why we're here.

Whoa. How did you guys get this? It's a long story, man.

We need to know if you're gonna help us.

Why? I mean, you guys could set that type of shit up easily.

Nah, nigga, not like you. Okay?

I need to go ghost. None of this shit can point back to me.

The type of protection I need for this shit requires a hacker.

Anon shit.

You broke into the fucking USC database.

Hey, hey. No, no, no. Okay?

Samo did that. I don't know shit, all right?

Whatever, nigga.

Look, we don't know shit about selling dope.


Nothing about the units, the terminology, the pricing.

None of that shit. I don't even know how much this fucking bag is worth.

You do.


But if this is a Samo-type job, man, I can't just do this as a favor.

What do you want? A percentage of the profits?

Fuck that.

Pay me in Molly.

Cut up the shit. You're gonna want to measure it out... so you can bag it up in grams, sell it that way.

But, you know, what a lot of the kids are liking nowadays is the pill form.

So, where we setting up shop?


Here? Yeah. Here.

Are you fuckin' retarded?

No. It's actually genius, bro.

We have a science lab.

We want to enter the Google Science Fair.

All we need you to do is open up the science labs, and we can do everything else.

Don't lose that shit, okay?

We have a computer lab which nobody ever uses.

And all the supplies laying around the band room would be perfect for shipping.

And the best part... Watch.

Nobody's going to suspect a thing. We're just geeks doing what geeks do.

Right? That's what I'm saying, bro. You're into it, bro.

What's up?

Yo. What's up?

Hey, congratulations on getting the store set up.

Now, uh, we gotta get you guys some customers, right?

Yeah. Check it out.

My house is having a party.

We could use a cool band.

Okay. Say we're, like... What about if you're quoting, like, rap lyrics?

Say we're all listening to The Chronic, Doggystyle.

We're all rapping along. Like, what are we supposed to say?

I'm sorry. That's bullshit, dude. Yes.

What about the artist's intent? Dude, that is exactly what I'm talking about, man.

Dude, I saw your bitch, Lily, on YouTube.

Okay. Well, Lily is not my bitch anymore, so...

Then can I get at her, dude? 'Cause I gotta find out what she was on.

Nigga, I don't give a fuck. All right?

Go for it, dude. Hey, but for real, she was using this.

Um... Mike check. One, two. One, two.

Um, hi.

I'm Malcolm Ad-Rock on guitar.

We've got diggity Diggy Dawson on the drums, and we've got steel-faced bobblehead Jibby right here on the bass.

Play something, Fresh Prince!

All right. We are Awreeoh.

We're about to turn it up, okay? One, two.

One, two, three, four.

What the fuck?

Diggy, Diggy, Diggy!

Yo, fuck Molly, dawg! It's all about that Lily, son!

How am I supposed to eat my p-p-p...

Pound cake?

Eat my pound cake.

My pound cake!

Is this Channel 10? You're all out here, huh?

Hey, homey, videotape this.

I want to tweet this later, man.

Son of a bitch.


I can't believe we're really doing this right now.


This shit better work, Will.

Oh, shit.

Lily, dude, that was unbelievable.

Principal Harris tells me that there are three young men... who actually joined the Google Science Fair.


Proof... that the public school system is still a ladder... to success.

Half an ounce for Joe Patterson.

We have an ounce for John Smith.

We have an eighth for Ashley Down.

Susan Thompson. Steve Burke.

Yeah, this popped up about a few weeks ago.

Look at what they're moving. It's major volume too.

I don't know why they're calling it "Lily."

Maybe, uh, 2 Chainz called it that on a mixtape.

He's a rapper. Yeah, you know, "The Birthday Song."

"Big booty ho."

Okay, never mind. Forget it.


Um, is that offer still on the table?


If you're busy, I can come back tomorrow or later.

No, um, no. They're... They're about to leave.

Yeah. Yeah, we were stepping.

Okay, cool. Thanks.

Bye. Bye, guys. Have fun.

Thanks for helping me.

No problem.

You're a fast learner.



Shit's been real crazy since Dom got locked up.

A few of his boys got smoked on the corner the other day.

I don't want to go back there.

Sorry. I just don't have people I can talk to about this stuff... that understand, you know?

I know.


Dom called from jail the other day.

He asked about you.

That's why you showed up all of a sudden.

What's that supposed to mean?

It means that Dom sent you here as his messenger.

All this crying on my shoulder? Bullshit.

You're supposed to put your feminine wiles on me... and find out about the fucking dope.



Wait. I...

And here I was, stupid enough to think that you were different... than these other niggas.

Nakia, Nakia, Nakia.

Fuck you!

"Feminine wiles"?

Good morning. Today you're going to take the SAT.

The SAT is your chance to show how prepared you are for college.

You will have 25 minutes to work on section one.

Yo, what the fuck was that?

What do you mean, you don't know?

Drug search, dawg.

They do it randomly, like, every month or so.

It's all for show. I mean, it's not like somebody is stupid enough... to put some shit in their locker.

Can I go to the bathroom?

Yes, but you will not be given more time.

Man. Come on, man.

What in the hell are you doing?

Um, SAT's.


I had to use the restroom, and I'm kind of late getting back.

You know?

Thank you. Good luck, little man.

Bring that beat back! One, two, three, four!

Here it is! The set ain't over!

Come on, y'all. Let's get busy.

Come on. Say "Yeah!"

Say "Hell yeah!"

- Ain't it funky? I'm not doing this shit no more.

Bro, I can fix this shit.

I can fix this shit.

The bag is almost done. The shit is almost gone.

I mean, I can't sell this shit no more. We almost just got fucking caught.

Look, I don't want to go to jail. I want to go to fucking college.

I want to get a good job. I want to help my mom!


That's cool.

It's my fault, my weight to carry.

Yo, that's bullshit.

We all wanted to go to Dom's party. Especially you, Jib.

It's our weight to carry too.

We've got your back to the end, right?




There it is. Gracias.

All right, so, when we get the Bitcoins, then what?

I need cash.

Well, you would have to do a currency exchange... to get the US dollar equivalent, but, I mean...

That kind of defeats the purpose of a non-fiat currency, right?

Okay, see, I don't give a fuck about all that Aaron Swartz...

Occupy Wall Street shit.

Okay, well, you'd have to link your Bitcoin account to a bank account, and then there's this infinitesimally small chance... that it could be traced.

I mean, the Feds would have to know exactly what they're looking for.

It's not something they could just stumble upon randomly.

Basically, I would just have to make a stupid-ass mistake for them to trace it.

And do I look like the type of nigga that makes stupid-ass mistakes?


So, you want me to set up that exchange?

I'm... I'm good. I'll do it.

Um... Huh?

What if I want zero chances of trace?

Well... if you want zero trace, you gotta go black market, homey.

Yeah, you got to put the Bitcoins on a drive... and make a hand-to-hand exchange.

You get cash minus the transaction fee.

If you really want to go that route... and I really don't suggest it...

I know a dude in the garment district.

Ask for Fidel.

If you pass his test, he'll help you.

If you don't...

Well, just pass his test.

One of these alligator bags was made here.

One is from the store.

Which one is which?

The right one, I mean, 'cause it's...

Mm-hmm. Poofier.

They both look the same.

The reality is...

I sell 90% of my stuff to white hos.

Most are rich enough to afford retail.

Why do you think that is?

I don't know.

They know. They know the only difference... between these two bags... is the person rocking them.

So, when they rock 'em, people are gonna assume it's real.

And the flip of that is... it doesn't matter if you had the receipt from Barneys sewn into the bag.

People gonna assume it's fake.

Only you know the truth.

So, what are you, man?

Are you a real?

Are you a fake?

That's what I need to find out.

I'm just Malcolm.

"Just Malcolm"? Who the fuck is Malcolm?

Show me. I want you to hit me as hard as you can.

Hey! Don't look at them.

This is between you and me. I'm-a give you five seconds.

You can either man up or run out like the little bitch you is.

One! Malcolm, let's just go.

Listen to your friends, boy. Two!

You can't be serious. I'm more than serious, motherfucker.

Three! I need that money.

You ain't gettin' shit. Four!

Yeah, you see your pussy friends leaving?

They're running like some little bitches.

Run, pussy.

Five! Five! Five!

Hit me, man! Five, motherfuck...

Oh, man. You...

Drive. Where?

Give me the drive! Shit.

Come here, man.

Now I know who you are...

A man that does not give a fuck.

Hey, blood! Don't you owe me another shoe, nigga?


Get on the ground, bitch-ass nigga.

Get the fuck off me! Malcolm!

Get off us! Malcolm! Stay the fuck down, nigga.

Malcolm! Bitch nigga. Yeah.


Jib, get the fucking bag. Come on!

Oh, shit.

Hold on, hold on. Hey, hold on.

Give me the bag.

Please, just give me the bag.

I don't even want that shit, blood.

Let's go, nigga. All right. Come on.

We out, we out, we out.

It's okay.

It's okay.

Come on.

Let's go.

That's 10%.

Consider it a proffer.

The rest is in a Bitcoin account. Bitcoin?

It's an untraceable Internet currency.

There are Web sites that sell a lot of things... that people would get in trouble for selling.

They use Bitcoins.

Kind of like Amazon.

So you sold on the Internet?


No. You did.

Excuse me?

You set up a store on Black Market Reloaded.

Very successful.

Very successful.

I mean, you moved your entire inventory.

See, the market's been pretty volatile, but as of right now, you have $97,267 and 31 cents... in your Bitcoin exchange account.

10,000 in cash.

Now, as long as your Bitcoins stay in the exchange account, they're safe, untraceable.

Now, if you were to exchange the Bitcoins into dollars... and transfer that money into your Jacoby Check Cashing corporate account, there would be a really, really small chance of it getting traced... by the DEA or FBI.

I mean, that would only happen if you were idiotically sloppy... while setting up the Bitcoin exchange account.

So you want me to set up that exchange?

I'm good. I'll do it.

I mean, that... I mean, it would almost have to be...


And why should I believe any of this, Malcolm?

Is your Jacoby APS shipping account number...


California regional bank number 267856783?

Federal Tax ID 95...

Hey, you really should just upgrade your firewall, you know?

I actually know a guy. He's kind of familiar with your system already.

You're all out of toilet paper, hon.

Courtside, okay? Courtside. Gotta have it. No, come on.

Now, what if I report to the authorities... that my securities have been breached... and my identity has been stolen?

As I've just learned, it doesn't matter if this bag is real or fake.

Because of where I come from, everybody's going to assume it's fake.

So, since you and I come from the same place, what is the DEA going to assume about you?

And because you and I are from the same place, Malcolm, you should know what a person like me can do to a person like you.


But that's not what a Harvard man would do.

Nah, see, a man of Harvard is smart enough to see... that would set off a chain of events... that would inevitably come back and destroy him... and everything he's built.

That would be a shame.

So, I think you should take this opportunity before you very seriously.

Do everything in your power to ensure that I become a man of Harvard... and make sure nothing happens to a hair on my gorgeous head.

Can you dig it?

Malcolm, you forgot your bag.

It's fake.


You're pretty damn arrogant. You think you're gonna get into Harvard?

Who do you think you are?

Let me tell you about two students.

Student "A" is a straight-A student who lives in the suburbs of Los Angeles.

He plays in a punk band with his best friends.

He loves to skateboard and ride on his BMX bike.

His favorite TV show is Game Of Thrones and his favorite band is The Thermals.

He's a '90s hip-hop geek.

Student "B" goes to an underfunded school... where teachers who would rather not be there... teach kids who really don't care.

He lives with a single mother, doesn't know his father and has sold dope.

Now close your eyes.

Picture each of these kids and tell me what you see.

Be honest. No one's going to judge you.

Now open your eyes.

So, am I student "A" or student "B"?

Am I a geek or a menace?

For most of my life, I've been caught in between who I really am... and how I'm perceived, in between categories and definition.

I don't fit in.

And I used to think that that was a curse, but... now I'm slowly starting to see... maybe it's a blessing.

See, when you don't fit in, you're forced to see the world from many different angles and points of view.

You gain knowledge, life lessons from disparate people and places.

And those lessons, for better or worse, have shaped me.

So, who am I?

Allow me to reintroduce myself. My name is Malcolm Adekanbi.

I'm a straight-A student with nearly perfect SAT scores.

I taught myself how to play guitar and read music.

I have stellar recommendations and diverse extracurricular activities.

I am a Google Science Fair participant, and in three weeks, I helped make over $100,000 for an online business.

So, why do I want to attend Harvard?

If I was white, would you even have to ask me that question?

Nice haircut.

I like it.

I'm... I'm sorry... for all the stuff that I said.

There was a lot going on at the time.

And... that wasn't me.

Yeah, it was.

You might have all these other folks fooled, but not me.

You're... complicated.

Anyway, I just came by to say thank you.

Thank you?

You... You passed? Mm-hmm.

You passed.

You were supposed to go to prom with me.


I told you I wasn't mad about missing prom.


I was mad about missing Six Flags.

I'll pick you up in the morning.