[during job interview]
Recruiter: Well, I see your hobbies include "drinkin', smokin' weed, and all kinds of ill shit."
[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!
Dashiki: Now kids, what do we say to a man that Mommy just met?
Kids: Are you my daddy?
Grandma: Ashtray! You little bitch ass motherfucker! Come over here and give your grandma a hug!
Ashtray: So, will I see you again?
Ashtray's Mother: Sorry, baby: you know there ain't no positive black females in these movies.
Ashtray: Hey, Preach, what up nigga?
Preach: Y'all need to stop using the word nigga. You see, it's terms like the word nigga that the white man uses to take away the self esteem of another race.
Preach: Oh yeah, remind me to pick my laundry up from that chink motherfucker up the street.
Driving Instructor: Hello. I'm Mr. Walker, your driving instructor. Fasten your seat belt, check your mirrors, let's begin.
Driving Instructor: Make a right, right here.
[a few moments later... ]
Driving Instructor: Make another left right here.
[a few moments later, in front of bank]
Driving Instructor: Park right here.
Driving Instructor: Wait here.
[Ashtray waits, gunshots heard in bank, alarm sounding, Mr. Walker runs back to car, points gun at Ashtray]
Driving Instructor: Drive, motherfucker! Drive!
[car takes off]
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: 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?
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.
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!
[after Ashtray hits her]
Grandma: You still hit like a bitch, motherfucker.
Preacher: And that's what God expects from His sheep, here at the Greater Ebenezer New Revival Tree of Life Institutional Double Rock on the Side of the Road to Jericho Missionary Baptist Church of Zion! And I said Mount Cavalry! Huh! Y'all gonna help me!
Ashtray: It hurt me to wake up and see my beautiful black people suffer, victimized by the oppressive, harsh realities of the hood. I guess, even though we were free, we were still slaves... in the mind.
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'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.
Dave the Crackhead: Man, you got any spare change?
Ashtray: Sorry, bro. I'm all out.
Dave the Crackhead: [holds up paper bag] Man, I got these cheeseburgers, man.
Ashtray: I don't want any cheeseburgers.
Dave the Crackhead: Please, man! I'll suck yo dick!
Ashtray: [Disgusted] Ugh! Get outta here, man!
[His friend died because he smoke a powerful joint]
Loc Dog: Yo, pass that shit!
Ashtray: We didn't even do nothing.
Officer Self Hatred: What? You think you tough?
[pulls gun on Ashtray]
Officer Self Hatred: 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.
Dashiki: My name is Dashiki. That's Swahili for "doggy-style."
Ashtray: [Drunk Party Girl downs whole bottle of alcohol] Damn girl you need to slow down.
Drunk Party Girl: You ain't my daddy... You ain't payin' none of my bills... Mind ya business... Ooh, this my song
[falls and faints to the ground]
Loc Dog's Mom: [speaking to Ashtray] Pass me that shit over there.
[Ashtray retrieves a container labeled "shit" from the spice rack and hands it to her]
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.
Ashtray: You know, it's kinda tough - growin' up in the hood without a - without a positive male role model to look up to.
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: [while having sex] Ooh, Talk dirty to me...
Ashtray: [Within the first minute of their session]
Ashtray: I-Im Cumming!
[makes wierd grunts then finally falls over]
Dashiki: What did you just say?
Ashtray: uhh... I'll talk about it after my nap
[nods off in sleep]
Loc Dog: Well, I can see how a pretty little woman like yourself can make a man a little sick- I mean, nervous!
Dashiki: [Ashtray and Dashiki are having foreplay on the kitchen floor. Ashtray gets a hot dog out of the fridge and starts rubbing it on Dashiki's face. She sees what it is and takes it from him] Huh uh, fool. That's the baby's lunch.
Ashtray: Doo Rag! Do you know why you and I are an endangered species?
Doo Rag: Because we're black males?
Ashtray: NO! It's because the rappers are getting all the good acting jobs!
Korean Woman: [Ashtray is looking at something while the racist Korean woman nervously dusts wine bottles] Hurry up and buy.
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.
[He walks over to the woman and smiles at her]
Loc Dog: Hey, sweetheart.
[Loc Dog 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?
Loc Dog's Real Woman: 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!