Don't Be a Menace to South Central While Drinking Your Juice in the Hood
1996
Grandma: Ashtray! You little bitch ass motherfucker! Come over here and give your grandma a hug!
Ashtray's Mother: Tray, I don't want you hangin' out in the streets. I want you to finish school, 'cause without an education the only kind of work you're gonna get is sellin' drugs, pimpin' women, or workin' security for Eddie Murphy.
Dashiki: Now kids, what do we say to a man that Mommy just met? Kids: Are you my daddy?
(during job interview) Recruiter: Well, I see your hobbies include "drinkin', smokin' weed, and all kinds of ill shit."
Ashtray's cellmate: If you hit a man, in time his wounds will heal. If you steal from a man, you can replace what you've stolen. But always cross in the green, never in between. Because the honorable Elijah Muhammed Ali floats like a butterfly and stings like a bee. And always remember my brother, one fish, two fish, red fish, blue fish, knick knack, paddy whack, give a dog a bone, two thousand, zero, zero, party, oops! Out of time, my bacon smellin' fine.
Loc Dog: How much for these chips? Korean Woman: Das five dala! Loc Dog: Five dollars? Damn! I better get some sucky-sucky with that!
Loc Dog: Everyone in the hood been up in her! She got more kids than Mrs Wayans!
Ashtray: So, will I see you again? Ashtray's Mother: Sorry, baby: you know there ain't no positive black females in these movies.
(while filling out job application) Loc Dog: Name: Loc Dog, baby. Height: Six-deuce! Age: 19. Father's name: mmm... I dunno. Sex: hell yeah, nigga! Salary desired: 3 million dollars! Cash!
Preach: I'm just tryin' to do to white girls what the white man's been doin' to us for 400 years. Crazy Legs: Yeah, what's that? Preach: Fuck 'em.
Loc Dog: Well, I can see how a pretty little woman like yourself can make a man a little sick- I mean, nervous!
(repeated line) Mailman: Message!
Loc Dog: "The Dog" don't bite... unless ya ask.
(His friend died because he smoke a powerful joint) Loc Dog: Yo, pass that shit!
Mailman: Messsssssaaaaage!
Ashtray: We didn't even do nothing. Officer Self Hatred: What? You think you tough? (pulls gun on Ashtray) You ain't so tough now, little nigga. I hate your black bastards, you *stink*! I hate your black skin. I hate your black pants. I hate black pepper. I hate black keys on a piano. I hate my gums, because they're black. I hate Whoopi Goldberg's *lips*. I hate the back of Forrest Whittaker's neck. Huh? Most of all, I hate that black-ass Wesley Snipes.
(smoking a blunt) Grandma: (shouts) Damn! This is some good shit.
(after Ashtray hits her) Grandma: You still hit like a bitch, motherfucker.
Loc Dog: Either they don't know, don't show, or don't care about being a menace to South Central while drinking your juice in the hood. That's what it's all about. That's what it's all about. Mailman: The fuck is he talking 'bout?
Driving Instructor: Hello. I'm Mr Walker, your driving instructor. Fasten your seat belt, check your mirrors, let's begin. (Ashtray driving) Make a right, right here. (a few moments later...) Make another left right here. (a few moments later, in front of bank) Park right here. (Ashtray stops) Wait here. (Ashtray waits, gunshots heard in bank, alarm sounding, Mr Walker runs back to car, points gun at Ashtray) Drive, motherfucker! Drive! (car takes off)
Ashtray: Oooh, girl, you so tight! Dashiki: Wrong hole, fool!
Ashtray: Loc Dog was America's worst nightmare, raised in a house with three generations of hopelessness, poverty... and profanity. Loc Dog's Mom: Loc Dogg, turn that loud ass mothafuckin music down, you wakin up the fuckin babies, mothafucka. This still my mothafuckin house, mothafucka... Loc Dog's Mom: Who tha fuck is that on my porch?
Dashiki: My name is Dashiki. That's Swahili for "doggy-style."
Al Dog: Five dollaz bustur!