you zooted, nigga?
that's the stupidest thing i ever heard. i got better things to do with my time, boy.
i am improvin' myself, fool. i broke up with no-good gang-bangin' tec, i'm going to beauty school, then i'ma hook up my own salon.
shut up, stupid.
what you payin'?
make it trey, we on.
or you can kiss my ass.
thank you.
word up. she throws open her shirt, and before we see anything we.  cut to:
coffee.
big.  . black.
cool, playa. she smiles. brad follows her over to the condiment table.
compton. you?
which streets?
right. i guess it's pretty hardcore up in here.
damn. how do you deal?
was that you droppin' rhymes when i came in?
mali-boo-tay, huh? looks phat. you gettin' any air play?
sounds just like that fat fool. i'll talk to him 'bout it.
hell yeah. i see him at the swap meet almost every sunday.
for rizzeal.
i don't know. i guess you do kinda got it goin' on.  it's funny. i was just on my way down to see him. wanna roll with me?
just helping out a brotha.
i'm just gonna hit the ladies' room, a'ight, pimp juice? she heads off. brad turns to his posse.
it's on. cut to:
so what do you rap about?
for real?
so, how did you get to be so down?
i did, but i just got through kickin' his sorry ass to the curb. i ain't nobody's 'gangsta hoochie.' i am an entrepreneur.
a businesswoman.
one day i'ma have a chain of beauty salons all up in the 90210, just like starbucks, only instead of coffee, with hair and nails. makin' sick money turnin' all the rich hoochies ghetto fab.
thank you.
take this exit. brad swerves across three lanes of the freeway to take the exit, and suddenly finds himself actually in south central. he's awestruck -- he notices a homeless guy with a shopping cart loaded with bags of stuff.
shut up, fool!
okay then.
would you two fools shut the hell up?
you a'ight in here?
look, i'm sorry about all that, it wasn't my idea.
i do.
i had to. they.  .  they threatened to kill me if i didn't play along.
oh yeah. they straight-up killas.
lemme school you on something, help you to stay alive, a'ight? the one thing they hate more than anything, that really sets them off, is posers.
i'm talkin' 'bout you!
come on. quit frontin'.
listen to reason. if you just be a nice little white boy and say you're sorry, i think i can convince them to let you go.
none of your damn bizness, tec. now let go. she yanks her arm away from him.
too busy for you.
hell no.
all you need to know is that it ain't you, okay?
you a'ight?
brad, don't --
don't do it, tec!
you alright?
old history. come on. shondra grabs brad and moves him to the stairs.
you're going home.
no. i'm savin' your ass. i'm not havin' your blood on my hands. it's the blue honda across the street.
wait a second. brad, don't do it. brad turns to shondra, looks at the keys, and shakes his head.
this is gonna be like an episode of 'oz.' brad gets his game face on and walks the gauntlet on his way to the stage -- an imposing path of intimidating looks.
a'ight, y'all had your fun, why don't you chill.
hey.  you okay? brad sniffles.
you know, it's not as bad as it seems.
you just need a little experience.
naw. you were right. i respected you for getting' up there.
they just don't understand you. none of them know how hardcore it is up in.  malibu.
yeah with the.  traffic, and the.  parking, and.
right. you just got to stick with it, you know, don't let anyone tell you who you are. brad smiles, looks at her.
for real?
i never would've known.
thank you. brad leans in and kisses her tenderly. she kisses him back. encouraged, brad opens his mouth wide and tries to stick his tongue down her throat. she pushes him back.
i said kiss, fool. damn.
i offered you a snack, not the whole kitchen.
a'ight, that's it, this game is lame. i want my money, and then y'all can get out.
you ain't never gonna be done. did it ever occur to you two jackasses that this is the way he really is?
whatever. look, i did what you asked, and i want my money.
excuse me? you playin' me? shondra hands sean the phone.
y'all get me my money now, or i'ma go in there and tell him what's up.
what the hell do you think you're doing?
what the hell got into you?
who you callin' ho, ho?
who the hell do you think you are?
uhn uhn. you created that monster, you deal with it.
until i see my money, it's your problem. sean and pj exit quickly. cut to:
 my.
 aaaaaa.
 aaaaaad! cut to:
where's brad?
that's the same damn line he used on me, and now this no good deadbeat weak-ass white boy won't take care of little malik.
you know he's yours.
i'm savin' your lily-white ass. come on.
listen, fool.
oh, damn.
for the money.
look, fool, this may sound stupid to you, but not everybody has money, and to people that don't, money is important!
dammit, brad, this is real. tec and his crew are real --
stop hoppin' around, fool, so i can look at it.
lucky you're such a weak shot. cap just grazed your toe.
it's not what it looks like, tec, i swear.
no, tec, stop!
i won't let you do it, tec.
you alright?
well, as far as being real, i can only vouch for two things. she kisses him full on the lips.
i told you we go way back.
like father like son.
for what?