Loc Dog
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Don't Be a Menace to South Central While Drinking Your Juice in the Hood (1996)
Loc Dog: Hey! Ms. Lady Bitch, I'm talking to you. How much for this candy bar?
Korean Woman: Das five dala!
Loc Dog: Five dollars? Damn! I better get some sucky-sucky with that! Love me long time or something?

Loc Dog: Everyone in the hood been up in her! She got more kids than Mrs. Wayans!

[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!

Loc Dog: Well, I can see how a pretty little woman like yourself can make a man a little sick- I mean, nervous!

Loc Dog: "The Dog" don't bite... unless ya ask.

Loc Dog: [after his friend dies from smoking a powerful joint] Yo, pass that shit!

Loc Dog: Never forget, man. Either they don't know... or don't show or just don't care... about bein' a menace to South Central while they drink their juice in the hood. That's what it's all about, Tray. That's what it's all about.
Mailman: What the fuck is he talkin' about?

Child Support Man: Say man, don't be giving that little kid no alcohol.
Loc Dog: You ain't his daddy.
Child Support Man: I ain't?... Dashiki!
[banging on her front door]
Child Support Man: Bitch, you better give me back my child support money!

Dave the Crackhead: Man, can you give directions to Grimshaw, man?
Loc Dog: Fool, you better get yo crusty behind away from me!
Dave the Crackhead: Man, I'll suck yo dick, man!
Loc Dog: What did you say to me?
Dave the Crackhead: I'll suck yo... dick, man!
[Loc Dog gives him a mean look]
Loc Dog: [moments later, a zipping sound is heard] Aw, man. Aight, so what you wanna do, my man, go to the corner, go about three blocks down, and make a right.

Loc Dog: Having a gun doesn't give you any power. You wanna know where the real power is?
Doo Rag: In the bullets!
Loc Dog: No! In The books! See, Doo Rag, your mind - it is like a gun, and you wanna load it up with little... bitty... bullets... of knowledge.
Mailman: [as a baby in a crib] Message!

Ashtray: [about Dashiki] She wants me.
Loc Dog: Why you keep wasting your time with that trick? Tellin' you, you need someone with some class. Someone you can take home to step-mama. You know what I'm trying to say? Get yourself a real woman.
[he looks across the yard at a woman who is guzzling an entire forty]
Loc Dog: A real woman. Hey, Tray, you see that bitch over there?
Ashtray: I see her.
Loc Dog: Now, *that's* a lady. I bet you I can get her number.
Ashtray: Nigga, you ain't getting nobody's number.
Loc Dog: Fool, watch me.
[walks over to the woman and smiles at her]
Loc Dog: Hey, sweetheart.
[pulls his gun out of his waistband and points it at her head]
Loc Dog: Break you'self! Gimme your goddamn number! Come on! Hurry up! Come on!
[she frantically writes her number down and gives it to him; he lowers his gun]
Loc Dog: Cool, cool, cool. So, um, I'm gonna give you a call about 5:00 all right?
[when she doesn't respond, he points the gun at her head again]
Loc Dog: I said, all right?
A.K.: Y-Y-Yeah, yeah.
Loc Dog: All right, sweetheart. Take care of yourself, all right?
[he walks away and holds up the number so Ashtray can see it]
Loc Dog: I told you I'd get her number!