Tales from the Hood (1995) Script

(Wind howling)

(♪ N.G.N.: "The Grave")

♪ Fresh on the scene only 14

♪ Surrounded by guns, searchin' for the dream

♪ Fool, what you mean? You sure know my green

♪ I'm about to get hot so, nigga, come clean

♪ I'm a young cabby seller...

(Music stops)

(Cock guns)

Pete. This is it, loco.

(♪ Organ)

Hey, man, fuck this, man. I ain't with this shit.

Y'all can have this. What?

(Stack) I just ain't into this dead people shit, all right?

Shit, man. That place does look evil as hell.

Look, man, both of y'all need to shut the fuck up, all right?

We doin' this shit cos this here's business, man.

Besides, dead people ain't who you all need to be worried about anyway.

Li'l Moe who the fuck y'all need to be worried about.

Now the sooner we get the shit, the sooner we raise up out this motherfucker, man.

Pass the bud, you little bitch.


Let's roll, man.

Hey, man, uh, maybe I need... I need to stay out here, all right?

Watch y'all back and shit, in case somethin' funny go down.

Wait a minute, man. You got your gat, man?

Yeah, I got my shit.

Well, if a dead motherfucker come fuckin' with you, you kill his arse, you understand me?

Yo, hold up. Hold-hold-hold... Hold up, Bulldog.

How I'm supposed to kill somethin' that's already dead, man?

What? Yeah.

How I'm supposed to kill somethin' that's already dead?

That's like killin' some shit twice, man.

(Chuckles) Yeah, like some refried beans and some shit.

Man, I never understood that, man.

Why the fuck you gonna refry some beans, man?

Why not just fry that shit right the first time and get out?

Look, will both of y'all shut the fuck up, all right?

Let's just take care of this business and move on, man.


Fuck this dead people shit!

(♪ Organ continues)

There ain't shit up in here to be scared of.

You understand me?

(Rings doorbell)

Damn! What the fuck is goin'...

(Dogs barking)

I've been waiting for you boys.


I have some iodine in the lab.

Hey, man, I don't need nothin' from no house of dead folks, OK?

Besides, I ain't no baby. Of course you're not.

Sho' looked like one when that door swung open.

Nigga, what's up, man?

Come on, come on. Partner, we got no time for this.

Let's just take care of this business and move on, man.

Now where's the shit? The shit?

The shit. The shit that you found.


The drugs.

I found a whole stack of them in the alley.

So where they at?

(Lighter clicks)

You got the money? Yeah, we got the money, old man.

(Bulldog) Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. You get it when we get the shit.

The shit.


The shit. The drugs.

You get the drugs, then I get the money. OK.

Hell, this is all new to me. I'm not a drug dealer.

I'm a mortician.

The only drugs I know about are those that have to do with the deceased.

Yo, man, what kind of drugs do dead people be needin'?

(Simms) All kinds.

We shoot them real good with embalming fluid, mainly.

You know, it keeps them from... (Inhales) ...smelling... and decomposing before the service.

Cool. Hey, so what happened to him?

(Simms) Oh, they say he went crazy.

Death... it comes in many strange packages.

Hey, man, I don't need to be hearin' this, man.

Man, kill that noise, man. Let's just get the shit.

Don't worry. You'll get the shit.

You'll be knee-deep... in the shit.

I've got it hid.

There's so much, I couldn't even lift it all myself.

I'll tell you about... old Clarence here along the way.

Unless, of course, you're scared.

(Chuckles) Hmm?

They say... he was hearing voices.

Voices calling his name. Voices from the dead.

Calling, "Clarence."



(Distorted) Clarence.

(Brakes screech) (Police radio chatter)

Now, Clarence, now, this here is a real quiet neighbourhood.

But that doesn't mean that you can take a break.

Cos the second you slack off... boom!

That's just when the shit hits the fan. Got it. Stay alert at all times.

That's right.

Now let's go up and check out this out-of-place.

You're gonna lose your badges over this. You had no reason to pull me over.

You had a fuckin' taillight out. (Chuckles)

Shut up and spread your goddamn legs.

(Grunts) (Groans)

You're not takin' any more cops' badges.

They keep sellin' drugs in my community, I'll keep takin' 'em down.

You can bet on it.

Yeah, well, we'll see about that.

(Groans) Hey, what we got, fellas?

No, no, no. Rookie, rookie. He'll get it. Just back off.

Go on away. It's all right.

Go run a check on his license plate, see if the car's stolen.

(Sighs) It's OK.

Go on. We got it.

(Police radio chatter) (Strom) Spread 'em.

(Beeping) (Strom) Spread 'em.

Now, let me ask you something, huh?

Are you getting off on destroying good cops' lives, hmm?

You big-mouthed, goddamn son of a bitch.

I've got nothing against good cops.

You what?

I said, I've got nothing against good cops, but I will see low-life scum like you run out of the department.

You shut the fuck up, cocksucker!

(Groans) Shit!

(♪ BILLIE HOLIDAY: "Strange Fruit")

♪ Southern trees...

Bro, you fucked up big time!

♪ Bear a strange fruit...

Let me have some of this. Look at me!

♪ Blood on the leaves...

Newton, you want in? Yeah, let me teach him a thing or two.

♪ And blood at the root

♪ Black bodies swingin'...

You there? You inside? Huh? Are you there?

♪ In the Southern breeze... ♪

(Moorehouse) 'And I promise you, 'we won't stop until we get every single crooked cop in this city!'

Oh, my God! Martin Moorehouse!

(Moorehouse) 'Neither drugs nor pretenders of the law

'will be allowed to drain the life of this community!'

Hey! Son of a bitch.


Hey! Hey! What the hell are you guys doing?

Strom. That's enough, Strom! Stop him! Stop him!

Strom, not in front of the rookie! Stop it!

This man is Martin Moorehouse!

I can't believe I didn't recognise him. Fuck.

What the hell's wrong with you? What the hell is wrong with you?

Back off! Fuck off!

This is no time to be fighting!

We've got to get this guy to a hospital!

That's right. We got to get him to a hospital. Now, let's do it, huh?

Come on. God!

You hear? What? You want some of me?

You're out of line!

You get your arse out of here.

We'll take care of it. Get out of here!

Smith, you get back to the unit!

(Strom) Get out of here. Finish our damn patrol!

Son of a bitch.

Strom, you know what you have to do.


Damn it! We... we need to report those arseholes, Newton!

(Brakes squeal)

You listen to me! And you listen good.

Those "arseholes" are cops.

Who the fuck are you to judge 'em?

Shit, man, you got a green dick.

Those two guys have been risking their arses on the street for years.

You see, the fucker went for Strom's gun.


Oh, now, maybe those two guys went too far tonight.

Maybe... it was all a mistake.

But next time, it could be you.

So, you know, you don't ever roll over, and you never... rat out a fellow officer, and you never, never... break the code.

(Brakes screech)

(Tapping) Knock, knock. We're here.


The hospital? Mm-hmm.

Yeah. Come on, boy. We'll get you all fixed up.

(Strom) Hell of a hospital.


Wanna have a little party, hmm?

You see, you were right about one thing.

The cops are dealing drugs in the sixth precinct.

But you're never gonna tell about it, are you?


Think it's enough? Just put him in the trunk.

(Engine starts)

(Moorehouse) Clarence!

(Siren wails) Bring them to me.

(♪ "Strange Fruit" resumes)

♪ Southern trees

♪ Bear a strange fruit

♪ Blood on the leaves

♪ And blood at the root

♪ Black bodies swingin'...

(Moorehouse) Bring them to me.

♪ In the Southern breeze...

(Bottle clatters)

(Gasps) (Banging)

Clarence, bring them to me.

Bring them to me.

I will.

I will.

I will.

(Police radio chatter) (Brakes screech)

(Mouths word)

Welcome, Officers.

For a minute, I thought you weren't gonna show.

Damn, he looks like fly-covered shit. Say what?

You look like fly-covered shit there, Clarence.

Haven't seen you in a long time, Clarence. I've missed you, pal.

You had the number. You should have reached out and touched a brother.

You could have told him how to reach out and touch a brother, couldn't you, Strom?

Now, Clarence... Clarence Smith.

Come on. Come on.

Come on down from the grave.

Now, let me ask you this, son.

What the fuck you call us out here for, huh?

A celebration. No, no, no. Answer me, boy!

What did you call us out here for?

To celebrate! What are we celebratin' tonight?


Our anniversary. You remember, don't you?

One year ago today, I fell for your bullshit.

You know, I actually believed that Strom and Billy were gonna take Moorehouse to the hospital.

Shut the fuck up! You don't get it, do you?

We tried to take him, and he didn't want to go.

You understand? He didn't want to go.

Just cut the shit, Strom!

Shut the fuck up, boy. Cut the shit!

Shut the fuck up! Cut the shit!

That story never did make any sense. Just save it.

Save it for who?

Hey, Clarence, if we go down, you go down.

Yeah, that's right, Clarence. You go down.

You guys killed a good man, and you ruined his name!

I should have turned you in instead of just quitting the force.

You quit because you're a pussy. You're a goddamn pussy.

So I thought the least we could do is pay our respects.

What do you mean, pay respects?

Pay Martin Moorehouse a little visit.

Or are you too much of a pussy to visit him?

Fuckin' fruitcake.

How are we supposed to visit a dead guy?

Are you saying you want us to go out to Moorehouse's grave with you?

That's exactly what I'm saying. Excuse me. Excuse me.

Huh? Fuck you.

If we go, will that be the end of it? You'll be satisfied?

I'll be totally satisfied.

Well, in that case, I don't think there's a problem.

I've got no problem. You guys agree?

Follow me, fellas. Lead the way.

Let's go.

Hey, what the fuck are we doin'? Clarence won't be makin' it back.

How much further, Clarence?

Martin is right here.

This grave.

I brought them. Are you happy?


You expect us to believe you're talking to this dead fucker?


Quite frankly, I don't know what to expect.

My orders were to get you out here.

I'm good at that, you know? Following orders.


It's just an electrical storm. Jesus!

What the hell? All of a sudden we're supposed to be scared to death?

Is that it, huh? Don't know, Strom. Should you be?

You know what? You piss me off. You know that.


I'm gonna be the first to volunteer.

You're not gonna...

You know what I'm gonna do? Huh?

You know what I'm gonna do, boy?

Get out of my way.

I'm gonna piss on... (Zipper unzips)

I'm gonna piss on his grave.


(Strom continues laughing)

Way to go, Strom. That's... that's pretty cool.

You know what? Kind of dry here.

Billy, why don't you come on over here and piss with me?

You know, I don't need to go, man.

I took a piss right before we came out here.

Did you hear what I said? Did you hear what I said?

I don't need to. I said go piss on it.

For Christ's sake, Strom, leave him alone.

It's OK, man.


This would be as good a place as any to bleed the old lizard, I guess.

(Zipper unzips)


(Chuckles) Come on.

(Moorehouse) Say good night. (Cock guns)

(Billy) Come on, now.

(Moorehouse) Shouldn't have done that, man.


What the hell have you done?

Strom! (Newton) Holy shit!

Christ! No!

(Billy) Oh, God! No! (Strom) Where did he go?

Oh, God. (Newton) Where the fuck did he go?

Get out of the way!

Stop shooting, goddamn it! There's nothin' there! He's gone!

Damn it, man. This is no time to panic!

Well, when the fuck do we start to panic?



Holy shit! Jesus!

(Newton) Oh, no, please! Oh, my God.

(Strom) Billy!

(Strom) What the fuck? Look at the fucker!


(Groaning) No! Shit!

(Gun clicks)

Shit! Now's a good time to panic!

Shit! Come on! (Strom) Get the hell out of here!

Come on, man! Get in the car!

Punch it! Come on! Now! Fuck!

I'm trying, goddamn it! Punch the goddamn thing!


Goddamn it! Get out of here!

(Siren wailing)

He's still there! How far back?

Jesus Christ! He's right behind us. How far back?

(Thud) (Growling)

(Strom) Oh, God! Look out! Get him off! Get him off!

(Growls) Get him off!


What are you doing? Huh? What are you gonna...

Unit 187! What are you gonna tell 'em?

That the body of a citizen we murdered has come back to kill us?

Use your fuckin' head for once!

Besides, he's gone, man!

Bullshit! Bullshit! (Screams)

Bullshit! (Brakes screech)

(Horn honks)

What's happening?

(Breathing heavily)

Jesus! Where the hell is he? I don't fuckin' know, man.

(Growling) (Screams, choking)

Strom! (Bones crunch)


Oh, God!


Now you.



(Gasps) Oh, no!

No. No.

(Crying) No. No, you're dead! You're dead!

You're dead.

Motherfucker! Beat it!

Did you see him? You see him?

I killed him! I killed him!

Yeah. I killed... I killed him!

I killed him.

(Chuckles) Yeah.





(Groaning) (Screaming)

Oh, help!




(Groans) (Screaming)

No! (Growling)




Welcome... to my world.

Are you satisfied now, brother?


Where were you when I needed you, brother?

(Grunts, shuddering)


So what's the story with this guy? Homicidal maniac.

Cop killer. Three in one night.

And trip this... he used to be a cop.

Wow! Man, you just never know, do you?

(Flies buzzing)

Yes, sir, crazy as a loon.

Talk about some insane-in-the-membrane type of shit.

Shut up, man. Them pigs got what they deserved, homeboy.

No, man.

All that shit he talkin' about, man, it can't be for real.

Sometimes reality is just a matter of perception.

(Stack) What the fuck now?

Reality... perception, a cornucopia of clashing, divergent ideas.

This is crazy, man.

Come on, man. Man.

Man, what type of shit?

What the fuck happened to him?

Hey, c-can we just get our shit and go?

Oh, no.

You're going to want to hear about this one.

It's a classic case of what is and isn't real...

...in the mind of a boy named Walter.

Perception... reality.

(Whispers) Walter.



(Growling continues)

(School bell rings)

All right, everybody, take your seats.

OK, we have a new student joining us today.

I want you all to say hello to Walter.

(All) Hello, Walter.

Go on and do something, punk. Yeah, we don't like punks!

I'm not a punk! "I'm not a punk!"

Who you shoving, bitch? (Walter) Ow!

(Kids chanting) Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight!

Hey, whoa, whoa. Whoa, whoa!

Everybody go back to their class.

(All moan) (Boy) Aw, man!

What's the problem? You must really like detention, huh, Ty?

Come on.

(Door opens)

(Nurse) Here, honey. Hold this up to your head.

So, uh, how's the little warrior doin'?

(Nurse) He's got a thick head.

I am worried about that, though.

Did Tyrone hit you in the eye?

(Nurse) That didn't just happen.

It's a couple of days old. Look at the coloring.

Tyrone didn't hit you.

Well, who did? Was it one of the other boys?


Was it someone at home? Maybe your mother?

Your father? Did he do this?

Uh-uh. He's dead.

I'm sorry.

Walter, if you tell me and Nurse Parchman, it'll just be our little secret, OK?

The monster.

The monster?

It came after my dad died.

(Teacher) I see. Hmm.

If you decide you want to tell me what really happened, I'm gonna be here to listen, OK?

He said no one would believe me.


(Growling continues)



(Growling continues)



(Grunting continues)

(Whispers) Mummy.

(Snarling and growling)




He's back.


Now, Walter, you be sure and put this back just like this.


(Walter crying) Ow! Stop! Stop!

(Children shouting and laughing in the distance)

(Teacher) Walter?

You didn't want to go outside?

What's that? Him.

Him? The monster.

Lori told me to draw it. Then we'll destroy it.

And the monster's gonna go away.

Lori that sits behind you? I'm gonna burn him up.

Lori said that her mum said to draw the things that scared her then tear it up or burn it.

And then it'll go away.

That's Tyrone.


Walter, do you think I could, uh... talk to your mother sometime?

What for? About the monster.

You've told her, haven't you? She doesn't want to hear it.

She says we already moved once.

You know, I don't think that drawing these pictures is really the answer to your problem.

But I think we can work somethin' out together. OK?

OK? I guess so.

Good. I will see you after recess.

All right.

(Door opens and closes)

(Tyrone screaming)

Excuse me, guys.

What happened to him?

He was running in the building after recess and fell down the stairs.

Well, did somebody shove him or... No, he just fell.

Sort of collapsed. But you know, it makes no sense.

How do you break both arms and legs falling down?

Boy must've had weak bones. (Siren wails)

(Vehicle engine rumbles then stops)

(Car door closes)

Who is it? Um... Mr Garvey.

I'm one of Walter's teachers from school.

Uh... this fell.

Thank you. ls there a problem?

No. No, um... Mrs... Miss...


Miss Johnson. Uh, can I come in and talk to you for a minute?

Yes, I'm sorry. I'm gonna go throw something on.




Miss Johnson, I came to talk to you about your boy Walter, because he seems to be having some problems.


Uh, yeah, perhaps because he just recently changed schools.

What kind of problems?

I mean, all kids have problems, don't they?

That's what life is... problems.

He got you good. Here. Step into the light for me.

Oh, yeah. Um...

Well, he seems to come to school with a lot of bruises, you know.

(Sighs) Kind of banged up.

The boy's clumsy. He's always fallin' over somethin'.

I don't know where he gets it. Not me.

Certainly not me.

(Door creaks)

(Sighs) Certainly not.

But, uh, he does seem to have a strange preoccupation with monsters.

I mean, a monster in particular that he says lives here in the house.

It sounds silly, but... Walter!

Listen, there is no need to bring Walter into this.


I told that boy about goin' on with these stories.

I can't have it. Walter!

I said get your narrow behind in this kitchen now!

Miss Johnson, I just came to talk to you.

Get over here.

What is your problem?

Now, why the hell are you goin' on tellin' this man these crazy stories?

Didn't I tell you to stop with all this monster foolishness? Didn't I?

(Vehicle approaching)

(Horn honks)

Go to your room.

Baby, go to your room now.

I'm gonna have to deal with this.

Miss Johnson, if you would give me a second to...

Just please...

Just keep quiet. Don't say nothin'.

(Door opens)

Why you just standin' there? Why the hell didn't you get the door?

Who's that?

That's just one of Walter's teachers. He was just leaving.

Is there a problem?

No. Actually, he just came over to drop off some homework.

Actually, sir, now that you mention it, Walter does seem to be having a few small problems that might deserve some looking into.


(Carl) Well, Walter's only been at this school for a couple of weeks.

And he does have trouble making friends.

So what kind of problem are we talking about?

Well, aside from the bruises...

Aside from that, there's, uh... this monster that he says is in the house.

He seems very disturbed by it.

In fact, he's even drawn a picture of the monster.


He, uh... thinks he needs to kill the monster.

I mean, he... he really believes it.

I'll talk to him.

That's it? You'll just talk to him?

I will talk... to him.

(Taps Fingers)

(sighs) OK.

Sissy, would you show him to the door, please?


Thanks for the tea.

(Clears throat)


Go to your room.

Miss Johnson... Go.




(In monster voice) Make... you little motherfucker.

You like to draw fucked-up pictures of people, huh?


(In human voice) Huh? Carl, no!


(Punches landing) (Sissy groaning)

(Crying in the distance)

I'm gonna teach you and that boy some respect.

Carl, please!


(Screaming) Stop!

(Sissy crying)

You're gonna make a picture to kill me?

You little motherfucker! Come here!

Carl, please!

Open up!

Miss Johnson! Walter!

Your little arse is mine!

You gonna draw a picture of somebody, make them look like a monster?

What, you think that shit is funny? No.

Get up! (Teacher) Miss Johnson!

You OK? (Walter) Mummy!

He's gonna kill him! Wait here. Wait here.


Look, stop, man. Just take it easy. (Carl) Take it easy?

This ain't your motherfuckin' house!


Take it easy. Motherfucker!

(Monster growling)

(Walter) No! (Monster growls)

Get up! No!

I'm not through with you yet.

Come here! Come here! What you gonna do?

(Walter) Let me go!


Bitch, have you lost your mind?

You ain't the only one need an arse-whoopin'.

Bitch! (Screams)

(Monster groans)

This shit ain't over yet, bitch.

Oh? But I think it is.

(Monster groaning)


What we gonna do?

They find him here like this, no one's gonna believe us.

Don't worry.

Nobody's gonna find out anything.

Walter, you know what to do.

(Monster groaning)

Yes, sir. Walter...

...killed the monster.


Man, is that really how he got dropped?

Hey, man, close this damn...

What the fuck?

So dead motherfuckers be playin' with dolls now, right?

Yes. But this doll, it's a way station for lost souls.


Sometimes, when a person's body has been through a lot, the soul is displaced.

This doll is a place for the soul to survive...

...until it can move on.

Man, you for real?

(Shouts) Yes!

I found this doll in a house in the South.

It is an amazing thing.

(Birds calling)

(Duke) 'You can give it any name you want.

'The fact is, affirmative action, quotas, reparations, 'all mean one thing.

'Another qualified individual won't get a job or an education

'simply because he's not the right color.

'I thought that's what we were trying to get away from.

'Duke Metger for governor, an original American.

'Isn't it about time?'

That's great. I'd even vote for me.

Listen, by the time I finish with you, you might even get a few black votes in the till.

Well, a start would be just getting the bastards off my front lawn.

Startin' to look like a damn minstrel show out there.

(Protesters) Duke must go! Duke must go!

If they were as relentless about finding a job as they are at hounding me, might put an end to welfare.

(Protesters) Duke must go! Duke must go!


Duke must go! Duke must go!

Beyond the obvious concern that the black and Jewish communities share over the candidacy of one-time Klan member Duke Metger, there seems to be an additional issue that has sparked anger in the black community.

Councilman Rogers, can you explain?

Lani, it's disturbing enough that Duke Metger would claim residency here just for the sake of gaining racist votes.

But the real slap in the face to the black community is that he chose this house, this former plantation, with its history of racism towards black people to set up camp. Can anything be done?

Well, there are certain things that we plan to do...

There ain't nothing we need to do! They're gonna take care of it.

They're going to make him pay for being here!

Who will make him pay, sir?

The souls! The souls are gonna make him pay!

Miss Cobbs was the keeper of the souls! There's no peace in the dollhouse now!

The dollhouse?

The dollhouse! They're going to make him pay... the dollhouse.

Just an old myth around these parts.

Ain't no myth! It ain't no myth! It ain't no myth!

It ain't no myth!

(Protesters) Duke must go! Duke must go!

Go away, old man.

What is it about this house that has 'em so worked up?

After the Civil War, the man who owned this plantation, Nathan Wilkes, he, uh... he's upset that his slaves were gonna walk away free.

When they tried to leave, the old man snapped.

Turned into a massacre.

Hundreds of slaves... lynchings, burnings, twelve bodies hanging from that tree alone.

Yeah, they buried them in a common grave up on the hill.

The fools believe that their souls never rested till Miss Cobbs, an old voodoo woman, bought the place.

That's... that's her there in the mural.

(Rhodie) What are those? (Duke) Dolls.

Legend is, she transferred the souls of the slaves into little dolls.

Negro dolls.

Word is, they remain in the house right to this day.

You ever seen any of 'em?

I searched every inch of this house when I first bought the place.

I figured the little black bastards might be worth something, but, no, I never found any.

(Sighs) And now they feel that the place should remain empty as a... as a remembrance to the atrocity, to let the souls rest like a... like an old Nazi camp.

Personally, I think the whole thing adds to a certain Southern charm.

You're a sick fuck, Duke.

Well, perhaps. But it's your job, Mr 10,000-dollar-a-week image-maker, to change all that... to soften the hard edges.

Mould me into a respected man of the people.

Yeah, well, I've got my work cut out for me, don't I?

You know, the first thing we're gonna work on, Duke, is your defensive media skills.

When you get out here in front of these cameras, these reporters, making these public appearances, you've always got to expect the unex...

This thing's kind of creepy, don't you think?

I'm going to paint the whole place over after the election.

Let's get you elected first, Duke.


(Duke) I feel I have a lot to offer all the constituents in this community, not just the white constituents.

So are you telling us, Duke, that your former affiliation with the K.K.K. is not something that the voters should concern themselves with in this election?

We all have a past now, don't we?

No. (Camera clicks)

No, no, no, no, no, no, no.

You're being much too defensive. Looks like you have something to hide.

(Clears throat)

Look, I want you to watch me, all right?

Take the camera. I want you to film me.

All right? Hold on. Hold it.


We all have a past.

It's the better man who can learn from his failures.

I know that I've learned from mine, and I'm better for it.

Uh-huh. Well, what... what about the house?

Well, I think that it's quite unfair to judge me or anyone else by the misdeeds of his ancestors.

After all, I have quite a few of my own to account for.


Aren't you afraid of the dolls? What about the ghosts?

Well, the only spooks that I'm afraid of are the ones with guns.


That's a good one, Rhodie. I like that. I believe I'm gonna use it.

No, not if you want to get elected, you won't.

OK? Jesus, I've been around you too long.

OK. Look, Duke? This is the real response to that one, OK?

Oh, oh, oh. Oh. (Camera clicks)


I'm not concerned with the ghost stories.

I'm concerned with traditional American values, original...



(Bones snap) Rhodie!

(Priest) Let us bow our heads in prayer.

Unto the mercy of Almighty God, we commend the soul of our brother departed.

We commit his body to the ground.

Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust.

In the sure and certain hope of the resurrection to eternal life.

(Reporter) Any truth to the rumor that Mr Willis's death was a result of some mysterious circumstances?

No, no. It was simply an unfortunate accident.

Don't you think it would help your position with the black community if you simply left Wilkes Manor and found another residence?

I think it's unfair to judge me or any other person by the misdeeds of their ancestors.

Besides, I have many misdeeds of my own to account for.

So you're not afraid of the ghosts?

The only spooks I'm afraid of... are you spooky reporters.

So what is your real goal...

That's about it, folks. Thank you.

That's about it. Thank you. You need to be scared, Mr Metger.

Them souls don't want you there.

They didn't want him there. Now you best to leave, or you'll end up just like him... or worse.

Well, sir, I have no intention of leaving, so let's just hope that the house and I can get along.

Can't we all just get along?

Heed my warning, Metger. They don't want you there.

That's about it. Thank you. The dolls don't want you there!

That's about it. Thank you.

Go away, old fool. (Man) They want reparation!

You hear me? They want reparation!

They want reparation, Mr Metger!

Driver, who'd you let in this vehicle?

Stop the car. Stop the damn car!

(Tires screech) Damn it.

I let no one in the car, sir.

(Tape clicks)

(Rhodie) 'This is the real response to that one, OK?'

(Duke) 'Oh, oh, oh. Oh. Go.'

'I'm not concerned with ghost stories.

'I'm concerned with traditional American values, original American...'

(Yelling) (Rhodie falling downstairs)

What the fuck?



(Panting continues)

Bruce, uh... I-I need you or Janet to give me a call.

There's... there's something wrong here.

(Knock on door)

Bruce! Janet, you back?

Oh, thank goodness.


(Wind howling)

(Footsteps running)


Where the fuck did your little black arse come from?


You think you and some old voodoo bitch could scare me out of my house?

I don't care how many slaves died here.

I... I didn't kill 'em.

You're gettin' no reparations.

You hear me? No reparations!

(Footsteps running)

(Footsteps continue)

(Footsteps running)

You goddamn voodoo bitch!





I'll put an end to your nigger arse.


Now I'm gonna blow off your little nigger balls.

(Cocks shotgun)


(Slams door)

Not even some voodoo bitch "nigra" spell can overcome the power of a double-barrel shotgun...


(Footsteps running)


(Footsteps running)

I'm not afraid of you!

I killed one of you! I'll kill you all, you...

...you little nigglins!

Come on out, you little nappyheaded sons of bitches.

(Footsteps running)

(Running continues)

Come on. Come on out.

Say good night, you little piece of black shit.

Oh, Jesus!



Mother Jesus!

(Grunts) Come on! Open!



(Shotgun hits floor)


(Footsteps running)

(Voices whispering)

I didn't... Oh, please.

I didn't...


(Voices whispering)

I didn't...

(Screaming) (Dolls shouting)

(Duke) Get off! Get off!

It gives you a new reverence for dolls, now don't it?

Man, fuck a Barbie. This is bullshit, Bulldog.

What's up? You gonna show us what we came here to get or what?

Really, dog.

See, I ain't got all night to be listening to no goddamn ghost stories.

These ain't ghost stories.

Everything I say is real.

Let's get this shit over with.

Let's see how real this shit is you got.

Ah, the shit.


Yo, man, you ain't gonna believe this, man.

Man, this shit is a trip, homey.


You knew him?

Sho' did. Hell, no.

We didn't know him. He was just a nigga we seen around.


He got himself involved in that crazy gang madness.

Yeah. Shit.

He got himself involved with the shit.

(♪ SPICE 1: "Born ll Die")

♪ My gat scream, "Fire", the bullet told me, ♪ "Shoot that motherfucker. He's a liar"

♪ I talk to my .380 like a bitch on a stroll

♪ When niggas try to dick me I haul off and let her ho

♪ Kill 'em all I can't be fucked in this game

♪ I'm a psychopath

♪ My A.K. told me to shove him up some nigga's arse

♪ I'm havin' long conversations with Mr Millimetre

♪ He's one of my best friends, bitch-arse nigga eater

♪ And Mrs Mossberg livin' up in that back trunk...

There's that punk motherfucker Deke right there.

Got you now, you motherfuckin' bitch.

Yeah, motherfucker. Come on, nigga.

Smoke this nigga.

Where the fuck you think you going, bitch?

(♪ "Born ll Die" continues)

Goddamn, nigga. You tryin' to blind me or somethin'? Shit.

Yo, what's up, little Deke? What's up, nigga?

What's up with all that shit you been talkin', motherfucker? Huh? Huh?

Bitch-arse nigga.

(♪ Chorus singing in Latin)

What's up, bitch? Motherfucker!

Shit. (Gunshots continue)

(Man #1) Where you want me to shoot your arse, motherfucker?

In the head or on the chest?

Blast your little-arse dick off first.

Man, fuck this, man! Hold up. Hold up. Hold up.

Don't do this cat just yet.

I wonder how many homeys he done pimped over the years.

(Man #3) Too fuckin' many. He think he old.

What's up now, Crazy K?

Oh, you crazy, huh? (Coughing)

Lookin' kind of fucked up.

(Man #2) Oh, yeah.

Fuck you. (Police radio chatter)


Fuck! Shit! Damn!

(Gunshots continue)



Saved by the motherfuckin' cops.



Read me the summary on this one.

Jerome Johns.

Serving the fourth year of a life sentence without a possibility of parole.

Solitary confinement the last two years for assaults on other prisoners.

Previous arrests and convictions included aggravated assault, first-degree battery, suspicion of murder three times, aggravated mayhem.

(Dr. Cushing) Jerome!


How would you like to be released from prison?

Man, is you fuckin' with my mind or what?

Man, how that shit gonna happen?

Consent to behavioral modification, and you'll be out on the street in no time.


Yeah, well, let's do this. Yeah, well, let's.

He'll do.

Prepare him for transfer. OK.

(Cell door buzzes)

(Women chattering)

(Cell door buzzing)

(Cell door closes, buzzes)

Get up off me, man! Shit.

(Breathing heavily)

Look what we have here.

The first soldier in my army perhaps.

(Exhales and sniffs)

So you're a real bad-arse spade, huh?

What you say to me, motherfucker?

You heard me.

You got to be really bad to be in a place like this.

Otherwise, you wouldn't be here. So, what did you do?

What you in for? Murder, punk.

And I wouldn't mind doing the shit again.

Me either.

I killed a lot of people. You wanna know what kind?

Come over here. I wanna show you something.

What's wrong? Are you afraid of me?

The final fight between black and white has begun.

I've led my troops on a wave of assaults to wake up my white brother.

All of the niggers of the Earth will be killed, except for the few that help with the fight against their mud-soul brethren.

Those few will be spared and live their lives as slaves.

Do you wanna be spared?

Come join my army.


Hey, nigger. Those guys you killed...

...what color were they? Huh?

They were niggers.

I know it.

You're cool with me, nigger.

I like you. I like you a lot.

Yeah, I didn't like being put in there with that crazy Klan motherfucker either.

(Dr. Cushing) I purposely put you next to him, Jerome, because I thought he was someone you ought to meet.

You are here to be rehabilitated by a process that the government has paid me to develop.

If you successfully complete this project, there's a very good chance you might be released.

If you don't, you will rot in solitary confinement for the rest of your wasted life.

And it wouldn't bother me a bit, cos I think you're scum, Jerome.

So don't test me. You understand?

Our tests show you have a high I.Q.

Have you ever been interested in science?

Yeah. I sold a few chemicals in my day.

Wait, wait. Whoa, whoa.

I know you don't think I'm getting on that thing.

You have no other choice.


Ah! Come on, man.



(Chains rattling)

(Machine whirring)



I'm gonna break you off something real proper when I get out this motherfucker.


(Grunts) I don't think so.



Start the optical sequencers.

Jerome! I want you to take a little look at something.

(♪ SPICE 1: "Born ll Die")

♪ My gat scream, "Fire", the bullet told me

♪ "Shoot that motherfucker. He's a liar"

♪ I talk to my .380 like a bitch on a stroll

♪ When niggas try to dick me, I haul off and let her ho

♪ Kill 'em all, I can't be fucked in this game

♪ I'm a psychopath

♪ My A.K. told me to shove him up some nigga's arse

♪ I'm havin' long conversations with Mr Millimetre

♪ He's one of my best friends, bitch-arse nigga eater

♪ It's splittin' motherfuckers by the seams

♪ My granddaddy, Mr AR-15

♪ Said he was my only family

♪ Shoot straight and please don't jam me

♪ Got in a fight at a club, my gat started walkin'

♪ Told me to shut the fuck up and let him do the talkin'

♪ I woke up, and it was sick to see them guts from my strap

♪ Tell me, Spice, motherfucker

♪ You're Born ll Die

♪ One to the chest and one to the dome

♪ Well, if them niggas catch you slippin' then yo' arse is gone

♪ Born ll Die

♪ Aim your best for the head so your brains get blown

♪ Well, if them niggas catch you slippin' then yo' arse is gone

♪ Legal Glocks and Berettas and the Uzi thangs

♪ And if the shit jump off I'm killin' everything

♪ Don't be actin' like no bitch when the funk is on

♪ Cos if them niggas catch you slippin' then yo' arse is gone

♪ One for the Glock, two for the clip

♪ Bullets in your arse make you hop and skip

♪ Niggas who ride strapped on the side

♪ Open up your chest about this fuckin' wide

♪ This ain't no TV, you don't wanna see me

♪ I'll split your cranium so motherfuckin' easy...


What's wrong, Jerome?

You don't like seeing black people get killed?

But isn't that what you've been doing all your life, Jerome?

You know, Jerome, Cain was the world's first murderer.

He slayed his brother!

And how many brothers have you slain?

(Jerome grunting)

♪ Blow the heart out a motherfucker back

♪ Nigga shit on hisself when I pull out my strap

♪ Bitch-arse niggas, expire, retire

♪ Stab him in the throat with the Dayton spoke wire

♪ So don't get caught up in the mix

♪ I let you motherfuckers know quick I'm Born ll Die

♪ One to the chest and one to the dome

♪ Well, if them niggas catch you slippin' then yo' arse is gone

♪ Aim your best for the head so your brains get blown

♪ Well, if them niggas catch you slippin' then yo' arse is gone

♪ If them niggas catch you slippin' then yo' arse is gone

♪ If them niggas catch you slippin' then yo' arse is gone

♪ If them niggas catch you slippin' then yo' arse is gone

♪ If them niggas catch you slippin' then yo' arse is gone

♪ Gone! Gone! ♪

(Man laughing)

(Man) Motherfuckin' shit.

Sensory what?

(Dr. Cushing) Sensory deprivation chamber.

You will see nothing. You will hear nothing.

Your mind will have nothing to feed upon but itself.

(Chuckles) It's a tiny meal indeed.


(Gasps) (Dr. Cushing laughing)

(Cell door opens)

(Tracy) What's up, Crazy K? Remember me?

Tracy? Yeah, man. What's up?

How come we ain't talked in a long time?

(Fingers snap) That's right. You killed my arse.

Ain't that a bitch?

I got one question for you, Crazy K. Why?


You-you was coming up short all the time, man.

I-I couldn't just let you rip me off, nigga.

(Man) You didn't even know us. That shit was wrong, man.

You just drove by and started blasting.

That shit was wrong, man.

We ain't even the ones that capped your homey.

That shit was really wrong, G.

Man, fuck you niggas!

It was your set that did my homey Little Joe.

Y'all motherfuckers would try to kill me if you had the chance.

Man, fuck you niggas. Fuck y'all.

I didn't do anything.

I was playing in my room, and the bullet from your gun came through the wall.

Uh, a-a-a bullet ain't got no name on it.

You-you-you was just at the wrong place at the wrong time.

(Chattering, shouting)

Shut up! Shut the fuck up!

Why should they, Jerome? Are they saying something you don't want to hear?

So you gonna blame all this shit on me?

Huh? You trying to make me crazy or something, motherfucker?

Huh? I don't owe no responsibilities for these motherfuckers.

But you are responsible for the lives you've taken, for the dreams you've turned into nightmares.

Nightmares? Motherfucker, what about my nightmare?

What about the nightmare I lived in?

What about the nightmare I lived in ever since I was born in this motherfucker?

Who's responsible for that? I don't know, Jerome. You tell me.

Who is responsible? Your mother? Your father?

Your teachers? The world? Who?

Yeah, that's right. All of them motherfuckers cos they created me.

So now I'm a motherfucking nightmare.

The nightmare ends when you say it does, Jerome.

You've got to take responsibility to wake up.

You've got to take responsibility to break this chain!

I've got one motherfucking responsibility in this world, and that's me.

And that's it, motherfucker!

So anybody and everything that ain't me ain't shit!

Do you understand that?

That's a question best posed to yourself.

I'm giving you a chance.

I'm giving you a shot at redemption. Do you understand that?

I don't give a fuck about none of these stupid motherfuckers!

So what you do is stop fucking with my mind, man, and let me up out this motherfucker!

There's nothing to stop you, Jerome.

Jerome! Shut the fuck up! Shut up!

You let me up out this motherfucker!

I swear to God I'll snap this bitch's neck!

Jerome, it's not too late to be saved. You won't get another chance.

I don't need another motherfucking chance.

You know why? Cos I don't give a fuck.

I said, I don't give a fuck. I don't give a fuck.

Jerome. I don't give a fuck.

I don't give a fuck. I don't give a fuck.

I don't give a fuck. I don't give a fuck.

I don't give a fuck. I don't give a fuck.

I don't give a fuck. I don't give a fuck.

I don't... (Coughs)

I don't give a fuck. I don't give a fuck.

I don't give a fuck.

We don't give a fuck either, motherfucker.

(Shell casings drop) (Grunts)

Oh, I must say, I don't think you can rehabilitate those types.

No. You just kill them.

(Cocks gun)

Who you think you're fucking with, old man?

What? Yeah. Cap this fool.

What? What? You know "what."

I'm sick of playing this ring-around-the-rosies.

Now, that last little story... Uh-huh.

That shit wasn't funny. Yeah. What you gonna do?

Call the cops or some shit?

Now, why... would I do that?

Cos you know who it was that killed the nigga, and you ain't said shit.


(Stack) Motherfucker.

One less nigga.

Punk motherfucker. Fuck him.

(Stack) Just bust a cap in this old fool now.

No, no, no, no, no, no. Don't be stupid, motherfucker.

Now, let's just get the shit first.

Now, where it's at?


The shit.



Follow me. Oh, yes.

Now we gonna get the shit.


Ooh! We gonna get the shit now. Yeah.

More ring-around-the-rosies, huh?

Oh, yeah. The doo-doo. (Clock chiming)

I'm sick of following his arse.

The poopy-de-pop. We're gonna get the shit.

(Chiming continues)

I'm not into these spiders and shit.

What the fuck is this?

Man, ain't this some shit?

You know what?

Right about now, man, I'm losing my patience!

Now, where it's at? Huh?

Handle your business. Handle your business.

This old man crazy. Whoo!

What the fuck is wrong with him?

Stupid mother... Shit.


Whoo! Where it's at?

(Simms) Oh, yeah. Where the shit, man?

Man, I don't trust... Hold up.

This old man crazy. (Simms) I have it here!

It's in the coffins.

Where else... would I hide it?

Got the shit. Ah!

Sick of playing these crazy games, old man, with your arse.

It better be in here. About fucking time!

Cos, you know, I don't wanna look at no motherfucker.

Holy shit!

What the fuck is this, man?

What the... What's going on?

What are we gonna do, Bulldog? I don't know. Blast him.

(Sizzling) What the...

Oh! Ow!

After you killed Crazy K...

...a few of his boys killed you.

I guess... you didn't make it.

No! No! I ain't hearing this!

No! What the fuck you trying to say? We're dead, motherfucker?


Motherfucker, bullshit!

If we dead, then what the fuck we doin' in a funeral home with your crazy arse?

This... ain't no funeral home!


It ain't the Terrordome neither!

Welcome to hell... (Thunderclap)




No! (Screaming)

(Screaming) (Laughing)

(♪ FACE MOB feat. SCARFACE: "Face Mob")

♪ Got my niggas in here up in this motherfuckin' house

♪ Face Mob's in the house

♪ Hey, hey, niggas, get up off of our gig if you would

♪ Face Mob's in the house

♪ Open your motherfuckin' eyes

♪ You see a nigga standing over your bed, bitch, surprise

♪ It's time to pay your motherfuckin' tithes

♪ And him being the bitch that he is, he cries

♪ But ain't no motherfuckin' mercy, it's over, fool

♪ You gots to die you motherfucker, you broke a rule

♪ And that's the reason I will sit here

♪ You feel the presence of death up in this bitch cos I'm in here

♪ Now, lay your arse down on the fuckin' floor

♪ Cos I'm abouts to hit your arse with the 4-4

♪ And ain't no breathin' when I'm comin' out

♪ So save your motherfuckin' self, punk bitch, your time is runnin' out

♪ Cos once I pull this motherfucker back

♪ I'm gonna leave the front part of your face down in your fuckin' lap

♪ I'm known to leave a motherfucker stiff

♪ And I got niggas bust on me from S Eighth to the bloody Fifth

♪ So what you doin' we done all done it

♪ It's all about my motherfuckin' neighbourhood

♪ And this is tales from it... ♪

(♪ BOKIE LOC: “Death Represents My Hood“)

♪ Represent my hood

♪ Nigga, that ain't no tale

♪ You should've cleaned that other hood on top

♪ Now you represent burnin' flesh, never sleep, nonstop

♪ Cos I represent my hood

♪ Nigga, who you gonna tell that I'm set-trippin'

♪ We don't know soul-trippin'

♪ Slippin' into depths of darkness

♪ For not many kids believe in monsters

♪ So why he merge into a father with a son

♪ Attempting to beat my son to death

♪ Represent my hood

♪ Nigga, who you gonna tell that I'm set-trippin'

♪ We don't know soul-trippin'

♪ Slippin' into depths of darkness, fool... ♪

(♪ NME: "I'm Talking To Myself“)

♪ Mega, mega, mega, kill, kill, kill

♪ Mega, mega, mega, kill, kill, kill

♪ Mr Crazy K, where you been?

♪ Cos I've been lookin' for your crazy arse just to put these slugs in

♪ Barrel pump, die, nigga, die

♪ Emptyin' the clips just like Lawrence O'Vrie

♪ These are the thoughts of one who don't give a fuck I'm drunk

♪ No, ain't up to double-barrel pump I'm talking to myself

♪ One lie leads to screams and gunshots

♪ Murder is my friend, can't stop thinking, "Fuck cops"

♪ Throw my achin' A.K. off the shelf

♪ So why you waitin' here cos I'm talking to myself, talking to myself... ♪


(♪ "The Hood Got Me Feelin' The Pain)

♪ I know it's trite, I tried to run away from my life

♪ I feel the strife reality can cut like a knife

♪ I'm in the hood and all I wanna do is maintain

♪ Going insane, the hood got me feelin' the pain

♪ Let me take a step back, let you know how it was

♪ Never did I gangbang like the blood or the coz

♪ I was a hustler livin' for the P-A-Y

♪ And I was breakin' other brothers cos I had to survive

♪ Pullin' jack moves, shootin' craps, pool, flankin' cavvy

♪ Rollin' back streets in my '86 Caddy

♪ Hookers on my side and nobody defied

♪ Because they knew a nigga tripped and a nigga was fried

♪ I know it's trite I tried to run away from my life

♪ I feel the strife, reality can cut like a knife

♪ I'm in the hood and all I wanna do is maintain

♪ Going insane, the hood got me feelin' the pain... ♪

(♪ DOMINO: "Tales From The Hood")

♪ I know it sounds bad but it's all good

♪ These are tales, tales from the hood

♪ I know it sounds bad but it's all good

♪ These are tales, tales from the hood

♪ I know it sounds bad but it's all good

♪ These are tales, tales from the hood ♪