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[exhales heavily]
[man and woman moaning]
[muffled thumping]
Oh, yeah.
[moaning intensifies]
Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah.
[man and woman sobbing]
[exhales]
[thuds]
[woman on TV] I want my baby girl to come back to me.
[narrator] A crime so gruesome--
-["Pound da Poundcakes" playing] -♪ Girl, don't flake ♪
♪ Bitch, let's bake ♪
♪ Bring dat ass here Let me pound da poundcakes ♪
♪ I said "Girl, don't flake Bitch, let's bake-- ♪
[man] Pants don't fit?
That's right. New Fat Crusher 2000.
[man vocalizing]
[man] Oh, shit!
[groans]
[Radha] What do you think of a woman turning 40?
40? Girl, 40 ain't shit.
You? Almost 40?
I started living my life when I was 40.
Damn, you that old, Miss B?
[in Spanish] Ay! Forty?!
40 means... juicy down there.
Shit, I figured you were like 30, maybe even 35, but 40?
Damn, that's just... that's just crazy.
-["Pound da Poundcakes" playing] -Oh, shit!
-Ooh-hoo! -[both] ♪ Girl, don't flake ♪
♪ Bitch, let's bake ♪
♪ Bring dat ass here Let me pound da poundcake ♪
When a single woman turns forty,
she's like fruit from the tree that falls to the ground
for the bugs to eat.
[Radha] Gracias.
You're welcome.
Now 70?
Call me when you turn 70 and can't control your bowels.
["Electric Relaxation" by A Tribe Called Quest playing]
[Radha] Oh, shit.
Oh, God.
Wait. Oh, come on.
Come on, sir, you see me standing right here.
Please? I'm late.
[relieved sigh] Thank you.
You just made your mother proud.
My mother's dead.
Sorry...?
Okay. Sorry.
Excuse me. Sorry about that. Sorry.
[man on phone] Hey, it's your brother.
It's been a year, so don't you think we should take care of Mom's apartment?
Aight, hit me back.
Thank you.
Oh, great.
Oh, fuck me.
Great.
Excuse me, sir?
Sir? Sir? Do you think I could just, like,
jump out before you let the people in.
I'm really late. I'll just jump out before you--
Sorry for the delay, folks,
but this lady here doesn't want me to help the disabled people on.
[busriders groaning] Oh, come on!
I... that did not...
I didn't... I didn't say that.
But, no, please. As you were.
Thanks. Thanks a lot. Please.
[under breath] Oh, shit.
No!
[rapping] Stupid-ass Scorpio
Your stingy-ass ways mean we can't flow
And you bullshit Libra
Fucking deceiver
Step off, Gigantor No one believes you
And Mr. Gemini
You're too feminine
Can't rock with a nigga's ass Bigger than mine
See me? I'm focused
My sweet mid-body lust Is just for those who I trust
Why? Because I'm a cli-cli-cli-Taurus
Wow.
Come on, guys. Come on. Clap it up for Elaine.
Thank you.
Thank you. Thank you for sharing that, Elaine, really.
Okay, um...
Any more thought on what kind of play we want to write?
Rosa?
I say we do some sci-fi shit.
Like?
Like this strange blue cloud comes down from the sky raining on everybody, right?
But then the next day, every man caught in the rain,
they wake up with no dick.
[Radha] Hmm. So, like, um, a sci-fi mystery kind of thing.
-Yeah. -Okay.
No, no, no. We should do some racial-type political shit,
where a Black man fucks this white girl and dies.
And that's political because...
'Cause a white vagina is a plot to destroy a Black family.
Shit, my mom would kill me if I even touch one, you feel me?
Consider yourself dead, bro.
Mm, mm-mm-mm.
Okay, guys, can we come up with ideas that don't involve genitalia?
You know, just in case somebody's grandmother wants to come to the show.
For what? My abuela loves balls.
[laughing]
Ha, ha, ha. Very funny. Okay, that's fine.
Make jokes. Just remember, it's your play.
It'll be whatever you put into it.
If you put in nothing, it'll be nothing.
Like your career?
[students] Ooh.
Ouch.
Really, Elaine?
I googled you.
Last time you did anything was, what, 2010?
Oh, 2012, and they ain't producing her 'cause white people scared of the truth.
Right, Miss B?
Rosa, thank you, but it's not about me.
Right, Brosa, so stop kissing her ass. You ain't going down on her.
Fuck you. I could dream.
Damn, Elaine, why you gotta be so negative?
I'm saying...
how's somebody who ain't had no real hit gonna tell me how to write a fucking play?
-She ain't no Tyler Perry. -[students react]
I actually appreciate that. Thank you.
And that's why she's teaching at the school,
coming late every day when nobody wants to be here.
[students] Oh-ho-ho!
I told you there were 20 invalids on my bus today, okay?
But you know what, Elaine? This isn't Dangerous Minds.
You can leave whenever you want.
And, by the way, I actually have a production coming up. Thank you.
[students] Oh!
I'm just saying.
[Elaine] Um, workshop production.
[scoffs] It ain't even regional theater. Please.
[students reacting] Oh-ho!
Yo, Elaine, sit down.
-What'd you say? -Uh, Rosa, don't bother.
I said sit your disrespectful ass down. Now, puta.
-What? -Oh, shit!
Oh! Ooh-hoo-hoo!
[Radha] Okay, guys. Guys, shut up.
Okay? Now, girls... I mean, gender non-conformists.
Make me sit down, dyke.
[students] Ooh!
Guys, can we just calm down and make art please?
'Cause you look like Bustin' Bieber I'm supposed to be scared?
-[student] Oh, no. -[Elaine] I ain't scared.
You still a bitch, bitch.
[students reacting]
Oh, shit!
-Girls, no! -[student] Shit, they fighting!
Pop her titty out!
[student 2] Yo, call security!
Guys, come on!
-Pull her fucking weave! -[Radha] Stop it!
[shouting indistinctly]
-[student] Pull her fucking weave out! -[screaming]
[girls yelling indistinctly]
Ya'll break it up!
[students booing]
Boo!
[indistinct chatter]
Fuck Time Out New York!
You're five stars Black Shakespeare, ma!
Like RadhaMUSprime, you'll rise again to slay all these Decepticunts out here!
-Oh, my God. -You all right?
-Yes. -You good?
Yeah.
Oh, my God.
[panting] They don't pay me enough for this shit.
[man on phone] Hi! You've reached Archie Choi.
-Do the thing! Ciao! -Great.
-[voicemail beeps] -Where the fuck are you, Archie?
I'm either gonna kill or fuck one of these damn kids.
Archie, where's my regional production? Like, what do I gotta do?
Write a... slave musical? An all-white play?
Like, who do I have to blow around here?
Elaine.
Oh, hey, Avery. What?
Elaine probably would have chilled if you just complimented her stupid poem.
You're right.
Oh, why you drinking that diet shit?
I prefer my woman thick.
[chuckles] Thanks. No, no. no.
Avery, that's not appropriate.
I'm-- I'm your teacher.
I turn 20 in two weeks.
I bet you do.
All over.
Help me. Please, help me.
[man] When I got that call...
I felt my balls shrivel up.
When I got that call...
I thought, "Damn, Darlene...
that's fucked up."
[whispering indistinctly]
I need a minute.
[actor] A minute?
Come on, man.
["Cristo Redentor" by Donald Byrd playing]
[sniffs] Mmm!
Is that patchouli?
Smells great. Smells really good.
Um...
[coughs] Forrest, thank you for meeting me so last minute.
I, uh, wanted to talk to you about my workshop production with you...
YOUmoja Theater. Yeah.
It's true, uh...
Black theater spaces are often under-resourced and underfunded,
but it's...
it's important that...
that I work with my people.
Still, my agent thinks that, um, at this point in my career,
you know, I've done the 30 Under 30...
Yes, it was quite a couple years ago, but I-- I did win that award.
He feels that I should maybe have a regional production of the play,
instead of a workshop production.
And, uh, for a fee that, I don't know, is enough to pay my rent...
would be nice.
Maybe.
Ooh. Okay.
Okay.
Oh, I should...
[knees crack]
[whispering] Oh, sorry. My knees are a little out of shape there.
[Radha exhales]
[Forrest] The ancestors, they're always with us,
always watching, I trust them.
They told me, despite the numerous challenges,
that I must preserve this theater.
And now, they're reminding me that what we create here
-is imbued with a spirit of cause. -Yes.
Not commerce.
The ancestors said that?
They don't want my rent paid?
[clears throat] Can we try my ancestors this time?
So, I have an Aunt Karen and I know she... wants my rent paid.
No? Okay, I'll just back off.
[blowing air]
[Archie] Guess who finally booked two tickets to Greece?
Antonio picked out our matching thongs.
Anyway, meet me downtown in, like, an hour.
There's someone I want you to meet.
Could be a game changer.
Oh, and be on time!
Hey, you have the address, right?
Okay, please dress it up a bit.
See you in a few.
[man] Oh, shit!
Maybe you'll finally get a nigga to go home with you tonight, huh?
It's been a long time since you had somebody up there.
And by up there, I mean
-up in there! [laughing] -Yeah, got it. Thanks.
[indistinct chatter]
[woman] I've been sworn to secrecy.
Come on, you can tell me.
-Okay, but not a word. -No.
[quietly] Michael and I are invested in a multi-racial revival of Fences!
My God! August Wilson? Timeless.
-I know and now integrated. -[groans in pleasure]
Oh, no, I don't want those at all.
-Tempted? -No! Mm-mm.
I'm gonna lose 40 by 40. I'm doing smoothies, boo.
Oh, that's why your breath, uh...
What? [exhaling]
So there may be an opportunity.
To drown in a sea of old white women?
Beyond the ladies.
-That's J. Whitman. -I know.
Why would I care about J. Whitman?
In between drinks and trying to grope my ass,
he said they have a last minute slot to fill.
And?
And it might be a chance to get your play up.
You know women of color playwrights are very hot right now.
[imitates sizzling sound]
Or would you rather have the roof leaking on your production at YOUmoja?
J. Whitman only does Black poverty porn plays of which mine are not.
Great, so I stopped masturbating,
got dressed, and resisted those succulent ribs for nothing?
Didn't someone almost stab you today?
No!
I was vigorously pushed.
They're good kids, okay?
[mocking] "Archie, where's my regional production?"
I'd rather do a workshop production with Forrest and his stingy-ass ancestors
than suck it up to J. Whitman. Ugh!
Look, I let that man graze my ass, so you're going to ingest a breath mint
and go see what that man has to say.
-But why would I-- -[grunts]
-I know you're not trying-- -Mmm!
-[whispering] Fuck you. -Ooh, better!
[Whitman] I'm not afraid of controversy.
Our all-female production of 12 Angry Men, my idea,
but a live cow on stage? [laughing]
I'm sorry, but I draw the line at fresh cow shit.
[all laughing]
Radha! Excuse me, ladies.
-Radha! Hey! -How are you?
Just puckering up to the patrons, as usual.
-How are you? -Good.
Archie tells me you're teaching.
I've been teaching for a while now.
Well, theater misses you.
-Does it? -Mm-hmm.
Is it looking for me? Because I've been here.
Now, Archie insisted I read your play.
Awesome. Thank you.
It's...
Yes...?
Why don't you tell me about it in your own words?
Okay.
Um...
Harlem Ave is about a young Black man
who inherits a grocery store from his dead mom and pop,
and how he struggles to keep the business afloat
with the help of his lovely wife...
who's an activist.
Hmm.
That's it?
No... no, no, no.
It's about gentrification. Mmm.
And how this young couple struggles to--
-You didn't like it. -The idea is powerful.
But?
It rang a little inauthentic.
Okay. Well, thank you for that note. I appreciate it.
-[stammers] There's something there. -Okay.
I just wish you hadn't shied away from darkness.
I mean if you're going to call it Harlem Ave,
you gotta give me Harlem Ave.
I should write in a teen mother shooting up in an alley.
No, no, no!
[both laughing]
No. No, you're missing my point.
I'm talking about gentrification.
A Black Harlem shifting under a white hipster land grab,
but your play never goes there.
I ask myself, "Did a Black person really write this?"
-Now, look, sweetheart. -Yes.
There's definitely a voice under all those words...
-All those words. -...but the writing needs work.
-The good news is... -Hmm?
I still need a writer for my Harriet Tubman musical.
-Wow. -[chuckles]
Okay.
[both chuckling]
That's... that's great.
That's great.
[woman] Hey, J!
-[Whitman groaning] -[table clatters]
Fuck.
[sobbing]
I just want to be an artist.
Mommy, please.
Mommy, please. Tell me what to do.
["Pound da Poundcakes" playing]
♪ Girl, don't flake ♪
♪ Bitch, let's bake ♪
♪ Bring dat ass here Let me pound da poundcakes ♪
♪ I said girl, don't flake ♪
♪ Bitch, let's bake ♪
[music fades]
[rapping] Yo, where my period at?
Oh, shit, there it go
Right next to belly bloating And this spotty flow
Yo, where my damn house keys?
Why my lower legs hurt?
Sciatica, locked legs like Attica
Word, yo, why my ass always horny?
Why I always gotta pee?
Why the young boy on the bus Offer his seat to me?
Why my skin so dry?
Why am I yawning right now?
Why them AARP niggas Sending shit to my house?
Why my ass so impatient?
But I like them young bucks
But ten o'clock roll around And I'm too tired to fuck
Why my knees be writing checks That my back can't cash?
Why I think I'm gonna fart But my ass got other plans?
Why most hip hop got me feeling So much older, yo?
When the fuck is this loud-ass song Gon' be over?
Yeah, I tried to dance hard But my knees straight caught me
Cause, yo, this is 40, niggas!
This is 40!
["Stakes Is High" by Unwrapped playing]
Oh! Uh...
Damn.
Antonio, just pick out a villa on the beach and I'll cover it, okay?
I can't, I'm meeting Radha.
She's still very fragile, very Miss Sofia after jail, you know?
She needs some cheering up.
Hey.
Oh, my Unabomber realness. Okay, baby, I'll call you back. Bye.
-Come here! Hey! -Hey. Hey.
How are you?
I'm okay, I'm okay, but listen, I need to talk to you about something.
-Me, too. So, last night-- -Last night was crazy.
-Something happened after-- -Don't worry about it.
-I know, but something happened after-- -Listen!
Radha, I think there's a way to smooth things over with Whitman.
If we can just--
[rapping] Got off 145 Guess who pass?
What?
A skinny white dude with the fattest ass
Yo, he was standing with his Becky
When her eyes met mine She looked away like she was shamed, G
They must have had a real love
Or that bitch had a fetish For some Black girl butt
But a butt But a butt painted white
Connected to this pink ding-a-ling
It made me sing
White man with a Black woman's butt
How you carry all that back there?
What the fuck?
Yes, what the fuck?
-Look, just... just think about it. -What? Think about what?
What are you talking about?
Think about me doing hip-hop.
Doing what to it?
I want to make a mixtape.
About a white man's ass?
No, about the 40-year-old woman's point of view.
Dry vag, soupy tits. Am I missing something?
Archie, where did I spend most of my time in high school?
With your regrets.
No, I was in the cafeteria,
beating out beats on the table, rhyming all day, all night.
All of my composition books filled with rhymes.
You used to charge people to battle me
because I was the best MC in high school.
Honey, we are not in high school. We are almost 40.
So?
So-- So that means I can't make great music?
I can make real music,
not the bullshit that my students listen to, but real music.
I found this Brownsville DJ-producer on Instagram.
Oh, my Jesus.
His name is D. He doesn't take calls.
I think you just show up with a bag of weed or something, but anyway,
his beats...
[hip-hop beat playing on phone]
-Come on, Archie! -Okay, yeah. Radha. Radha.
Last night we had a bad moment.
See, this is about creating something that is mine.
And now we're having a little breakdown.
Something that doesn't rely on critics or gatekeepers.
Or choking out a white man?
Do you smell the burning carcass of friendship?
Yeah, I definitely smell it.
Radha, look, I get it.
Your-- Your mom's gone.
You're a little sad, a little stuck.
A lot of eating.
You're in mourning, but you're not done with theater.
What, so there's a 40 under 40 list that I don't know about?
Okay, look, you make your little music, if that's what you need to do.
-Thank you. I appreciate it. -In the meantime,
I will smooth things over with Whitman, and you can tighten up your script. Okay?
-Oh, my God. -Hello?
-[Archie] Radha. -[Radha] Oh, my God.
[Archie] What?
[rapping] Two big white butts in one day
They call that an omen, ho-may
Sorry to say, boo-bae
I got rhymes to write today [laughing]
-Radha? Radha! -[Radha] I'll call you later, Archie!
-You wanna do what? -[hip-hop beat playing]
Hip hop. Hippity hop.
[both] ♪ Girl, don't flake Bitch, let's bake ♪
[in Spanish] What's a mixtape?
Really?
We sisters finally got a Michelle Obama out here and you want to go do this
ri-damn-diculousness?
♪ Bring dat ass here Let me pound da poundcakes ♪
Hear that?
Harriet Tubman just shot herself in the afterlife.
Mmm! Mm-mm-mm.
["Wrath of My Madness" by Queen Latifah playing]
[brother] Hey, I straightened up over at Mom's...
but there's a lot of stuff, yo.
When you coming by?
A bunch of your shit is still over there.
Aight, hit me.
Later.
[door buzzes and clicks]
[hip-hop beat blaring]
[coughing]
Is D here?
[man rapping]
Hey, yo, mama, what you need?
Um... [clears throat]
Beats. Tracks.
For what?
For me.
What, you rhyme?
Yes, I do. [clears throat]
Oh, and, uh, yes, I have currency.
Oh, aight.
No doubt. So what you call yourself?
-Huh? -So, what they call you?
-What they call you? -Radha... MUSprime.
What?
RadhaMUSprime.
Oh, shit, like, uh, like Optimus. -Yeah. Yeah.
-[imitates robot] -Yeah.
Yeah. Yeah, aight.
Yeah, that's me. Yeah.
Hey, yo D.
Yo D!
Yo, this is RadhaMUSprime.
She needs some beats, yo.
[feet shuffling] Oh!
-[man] Yo, what the fuck? -Sorry.
Gosh, your poor feet.
[coughing]
I'm good.
[snoring]
Oh, shit.
Shit, what time is it?
Two.
A.M.?
Where's D?
Gone.
Where?
[man grunts]
Stupid fucking door. Shit.
I came all the way to Brooklyn for this bullshit?
Fuck.
[man] Just say it.
Say what you have been meaning to say to me from the moment that you
first laid eyes on me.
[woman] Fine, fine.
I love red meat.
-Congrats, Josh, it's your next hit. -I try.
You look great.
Considering my neck was in a vice last week.
Again, I'm so sorry.
Can I help you with something?
I want to thank you for not pressing charges.
Well, it wasn't that tight a grip.
Pilates.
I appreciate your loyalty.
I don't quite understand the attachment, though.
["This Is How We Do It" by Montell Jordan plays]
-She has a real voice. -She's good. She's not special.
That's bullshit.
-She just needs someone to-- -[chuckling] Stop.
Seriously.
Begging doesn't suit your lovely cheekbones.
You should be producing theater,
not letting some washed-up writer weigh you down.
-But if you could just reconsider-- -Sorry.
There's nothing else to say.
Boom. So, right, the sperm.
He gotta go through all these different portals and shit,
like parts of the vagina, the chocha...
But at each portal, he gotta fight mad assault ninjas,
like a crab ninja because, you know, bitch had crabs once.
-We should write in a tampon ninja. -You're right.
Anyway, so, right, after all these trials,
he finally gets to Vagzilla, the Queen of the Vaginal Eggs.
I prefer Eggliza though, brother.
Same shit. Now, right?
The queen, she all fine and shit,
but Old Spermy, he gotta seduce her and shit, so he could...
[both] Come to Be.
[chuckling] You get it? That's the title.
What you... what you thinking?
Sure, why not?
What?
-[students reacting] -[school bell droning]
-I already told you. -Um...
guys, let's pick up next week.
You tight. You tight. You tight. You dead tight.
-[laughing] -Keep it up.
Yeah. I see you, Avery.
Uh, Rosa, Elaine?
What up, Miss B?
Uh, don't "Miss B" me, okay?
[door closes]
Now, the dean said I could kick the both of you out of the class
after what happened last week.
-No! -[sarcastic] So terrible.
But I won't. Why?
Because even though we'd all rather be someplace
other than this terribly lit room...
-Not me. -...we committed to telling a story,
and not some version of poverty porn, either, okay?
So, don't think if you don't get what you want, Elaine,
that the world should stop for you.
Mmm, I like this, Miss B.
Or that if someone says something you don't like, Rosa,
you get to choke them the fuck out.
You're right, my bad.
Now, Elaine, your poem was great. Okay?
Yeah?
Yes!
But...
don't think because you created something
that people would appreciate it, okay?
Or you'll end up some washed-up,
forty-year-old playwright with some stupid notion to become a rapper
and the shits from drinking a diet drink that doesn't quite meet the FDA standards.
Now, do you want that for yourselves?
I said, "Is that what you want?"
-No. -No.
Fine.
A rapper, Miss B?
I'll see you next week.
Wow, she's like Queen Latifah and Judge Judy, but rolled into one, yo.
[students chattering]
-What the fuck? -Yo, Miss B.
Hey, Avery.
-[phone ringing] -Oh, shoot, sorry. I gotta take this.
-Have a good one. -[Avery] You, too.
Oh, sweet Jesus.
Yes, I am your salvation.
[Radha] What's up?
So, I just saw Whitman. His new play is trash.
Anyway, your name came up.
[Radha] So?
So, I told him straight up, like,
-[phone buzzing] -"What's up with my girl, you know?"
-And he said-- -Wait, hold up, Archie.
Uh, hello? Radha?
Hello?
This motherfucker.
Excuse me?
Mmm!
-Hey, Archie, let me call you back. -No, wait!
Fuck!
No, not you. I'd never fuck you.
[hip-hop music playing]
[brother on phone] Hey.
The storage people are ready to pick up stuff,
but I waited... because maybe you want to look through her stuff first?
Come on! What's the fucking deal?
Hey.
Look, um... I don't know you...
and you damn sure don't know me to pull some ghosting shit like you did,
but, um, nigga, I'm from Brooklyn, too.
Okay? I grew up on Mother Gaston in the '90s.
By aroma alone, I can tell the difference between three grades of crack,
so don't go treating me like I'm some white, newbie hipster
exploring the Black terrain when I'm fucking from here, okay?
This motherfucker.
[hip-hop beat blaring]
[door closes]
If you didn't want to work with me, you should have just said something.
You know what's really fucked up?
All you so-called "brothers" letting a sister
walk to a Brownsville train station by herself at 2:00 a.m. in the morning.
Does that even sound right?
[music stops]
No, it don't.
Okay.
It was, like, 2:10.
You went to the corner bodega and got some Funyuns.
You went down to the station. Your train came in, like, ten minutes.
[music starts again]
I knew that.
Going in or what?
What, now?
Did you want another beat?
Maybe.
[new hip-hop track playing]
[track changes]
[track changes again]
[track changes]
No, wait. The last one.
[switches to prior track]
-[phone ringing] -Oh, shit.
[groans] Archie. Jesus.
Um... [scoffs]
I'm so sorry.
[sighs] He's just... it's my agent.
Um... [clears throat]
I've been working on this... social commentary
about, um, the white gaze's eroticism of Black pain, and, um...
Don't you want to know what I'm rhyming about?
I just make the beats, lady.
[Radha] Okay.
[music switches to headphones]
[whispering] Sorry.
[D sighs]
Aight, so, you gonna come in...
You gonna come in on the eight.
[rapping against music] ♪ Yo, here's a little story ♪
♪ About a girl who's Black ♪
♪ With herpes, diabetes ♪
♪ Chick's notoriously fat Let's add some asthma attacks ♪
♪ From all the courtyard crack use ♪
♪ True, current use is low But I want my shit produced ♪
♪ So, no happy Blacks In the plot lines, please ♪
♪ But a crane shot of Big Mama Crying on her knees ♪
♪ For her dead son, the B-Ball star Who almost made it out ♪
♪ Sounds fucked up enough To gain my film some capital ♪
♪ So I'mma pitch some fucked up shit Made just for the screen ♪
♪ The most pathos-drenched story That's ever been seen ♪
♪ Sure, Blacks be having Huxtable achievements ♪
♪ But these white producers Just don't be believing shit ♪
♪ Yeah, it's poverty porn I'll write some poverty porn ♪
♪ Yo, if I wanna get on Better write me some poverty porn, yo ♪
♪ Yo, you like that shit? Yeah, I could add some more ♪
♪ A bunch of toddlers getting shot In front of liquor stores ♪
♪ Damn, why was them kids outside anyway? ♪
♪ They moms was sucking dicks In dimly lit hallways of ♪
♪ Dark, fucked up, seedy-ass tenements ♪
♪ The roof is where gangs rape Old ladies just for sentiment, yeah ♪
♪ Now, this shit is getting Real ghetto prolific ♪
♪ Ain't no hipsters gentrifying Gotta keep this shit authentic ♪
♪ So, no soy milk in the bodega yet ♪
♪ Just shells and 40s and blunts In the gutter wet ♪
♪Now, does this make you wanna throw up Your hands and holler? ♪
♪ How 'bout I add a three-year-old crackhead sucking dick for a dollar? ♪
♪ Yo, it's poverty porn You regular Blacks are just such a yawn ♪
♪ Yo, if I wanna get on Better write me some poverty porn ♪
♪ Yeah! ♪
How was that last one?
Good.
[clicking mouse]
It felt good.
If my kids could see me now.
Not my kids, I don't...
I don't have kids.
[clears throat] I mean my students.
I'm a teacher.
I teach playwriting.
I'm a playwright, but I don't really feel like one these days.
Anyway, my students would get a real kick out of this.
Not that you're listening to anything I'm saying.
[Radha] Ah.
Coltrane, huh?
What, I'm from Brownsville, so I don't know?
No, I'm just saying, Coltrane.
Yeah, my moms put me on.
Your mom has good taste.
So, what does she think of your music?
I don't know. She died.
I'm sorry to hear that.
You know what? Um...
I'm gonna go.
The session was great. I just should probably get on my way.
Um, but before I forget.
[chuckles] Nah.
Don't I owe you for the session?
No, we good from last time. It's cool.
Okay.
More for me. [chuckles]
Okay.
Um, oh, you need me to...
walk you or follow you to the train again?
Uh, no, but, um... I want to come back.
I want to make a mixtape.
-Man. -What?
Nothing. I mean...
you could. It'd be nice.
What did you just say?
Come on, you heard what I said.
You don't think I'm some crazy old broad for doing this?
I mean, I ain't say all that...
but what you're doing...
it's interesting.
Thanks, D.
I'm gonna go. [chuckles]
Yeah, thanks.
[D] Yo.
What you doing on Thursday?
[rapping] Poverty porn I'll write some poverty porn
Yeah, bitch.
-[Radha] Archie-- -Don't "Archie" me.
I was just about to call you.
You got me waiting in your not-gentrified-enough-for-me
part of Harlem getting harassed by Homeless Harry over there.
It's Lamont...
but okay.
-Look, I want-- -No, you look.
You're blowing me off when I'm trying to tell your tired, unproduced ass
some good news.
What?
Harlem fucking Ave.
Whitman wants to produce it.
What?
He said he's over the thing and wants to do your play,
pending we make some changes around length and tone and did I say length?
Doesn't matter. He's all in.
Mmm...
-What? -I don't know.
Does that... does this even feel right?
Does an after-dinner fart feel right? Hell's yes.
No, I mean...
do I want to compromise my play for some arrogant asshole?
-You choked that asshole. -Shh.
That asshole didn't press charges.
That asshole still wants to work with you.
This is the major production you wanted.
Yeah, but do I want it this way?
[scoffs]
[Radha] What?
You know, the whole "us against the world" thing was cute in high school,
but I like opportunity, and eating out, and silken robes.
Just know, to stay an underdog, you have to lose shit.
Archie, we can find another producer.
I'm talking about me.
What?
[chuckling] Archie, you don't even mean that.
I've known you since I was skinny and you pretended to like girls.
Look, I'm doing this show on Thursday.
Show? With who?
D from Brownsville.
He's doing this artist showcase
-and he invited RadhaMUSprime to perform. -Who-da-mus?
Seriously, it would mean a lot if you came.
Archie.
[Lamont] Give a bitch a chance, man.
Her desperation is making me nauseous,
although technically, you gotta eat something to throw up, know what I mean?
Whitman had some notes. Will you look them over?
I will seriously consider it.
See you on Thursday?
Whatever, bitch. Look at the notes.
You 40 yet?
[Radha] Not yet, ma'am.
Still trying that rapping shit?
Yes, I am, ma'am.
You know, you're not going to be satisfied
until you sleeping in a box like that fool over there.
[Lamont] Hey, mama.
[woman] Shut up with that mama mess.
I'll beat some homeless ass.
[school bell droning]
[students chattering in distance]
Why are you guys still here?
Hello?
My ex-girl's older half cousin says you rhyming in a show.
It's true, Miss B?
Don't you guys have someplace to be?
-Damn, it's like that? -For real?
You just gonna shut the youth out of a moment
that could potentially change how we dream,
how we look at the cold world out there, how we confront--
Yes, damn it. Okay.
Shit. That's what's up, Miss B.
[Radha sighs]
-Yo, we can come through, right? -Mmm. I don't know, guys.
Come on, Miss B.
You know we live for this kind of shit.
And you not just talking about shit. You making shit. Shit!
Okay, but just you two.
-[both] Ooh-hoo-hoo! -Okay, you cannot tell another soul.
Bet!
We got you Miss B. Mum's the fucking word.
[student] We all on that damn list.
Ain't no minors here. We're majors, son.
-Why you trying to play us? -What you want, some money, some weed?
Shut up, stupid and stupider.
I got this.
Now, you know the charge for looking at a minor's titties?
Yeah.
You know the charge. That's what I'm talking about.
This is my friend.
[Radha exhales]
[D] That's your moms?
-Yeah. -She coming?
In spirit, I guess.
Oh, shit.
Yo, why you ain't say nothing?
Don't you get tired of adding people to the dead-mom club in your head?
[Radha sighs]
[chuckles] That's what we doing now?
Yeah, that's what we doing now. Shit.
"That's what we doing now,"
says the person with the metabolism of a baby goat.
You'll see.
It gets much harder to lose weight when you get older.
Well, there ain't nothing wrong with you.
Mm. No, just my nerves.
Yo, it is one song.
I know, but I just--
-Now, come on. Let's go. -What?
Where we going?
[man rapping] Like, I eat Vietnamese food I ain't going for the top spot
[Radha] No.
Come on. It's gonna chill you out.
Trust me.
[man] I write liquor flows And draft beers the fans hearing
If you have ears, come give Mick a lobe
Ambidextrous, tag team drawn
Both hands on the bars Like a trapeze artist
-[man 2] Ooh! -Inverted triangle on the overcoat
I feel like Forrest Gump When he lost polio
That was too straightforward Let me space out
I'm glad that I had the gumption To break out
If y'all ain't catch that bars Time to OD
Brace yourself Gumption is what broke free
[all react]
Okay.
[rapping] Another brother died All they did was make a shirt of it
I was there in body and spirit
These is my lyrics Niggas hang on every word of it
I'mma trim the fat like a Foreman Grill
I give you the word like a foreign film
Politicians been a problem Since the birth of it
I don't fit into your vision Every different stance
Vincent van Gogh Because the left never heard of it
[man] Woo!
Niggas act like I actually like That conscious shit
Nah, my spirit been there All my albums is posthumous
I see motherfuckers pay a grip For an Oculus Rift
And still can't see it through My fucking eyes and shit
I didn't beat the odds and shit Niggas where I'm from don't see the prize
All our moms believe in God And all they sons is demonized
I thought going to school was selfish Because of how expensive college is
Now, I do a college and get paid A fucking scholarship
Woo!
Crazy, bro. Crazy.
Um... [clears throat]
[man] Oh, okay.
[rapping] Yo, this be a moment, B
Down in all these groceries
Niggas act like they don't notice me But they ashen, get some lotion, B
-[all laughing] -RadhaMUS is the chosen, see
At the top of the totem tree
While these niggas hang low Like them scrotums be
You're not pee So you're just loaders, free
You're both crooked and straight bogus, B
Your own momma is toasting me
She second that emotion, B
Yo, get some power and stop ghosting me
-[all react] -[man] Okay!
Shiny bevels, swarmy levels Where your devotion be?
Yo, yo, it's almost time to go
I hope I do D proud enough To give a bitch some more
Because I'm hooked, shook Gotta pain for them beats, hits
Like a diabetic for sweet shit
If beat's the mother of invention Then I'm sucking on her sweet tit
Damn!
That's crazy! That's good.
Yo, look. It's a packed show up there.
I'mma see y'all, aight?
Aight, yeah, I'mma go up with you.
Sucking on her sweet tit?
You fuck with girls?
[crowd cheering]
[woman] All right!
All right.
Y'all feeling good tonight? Having a good time?
-[all cheering] Yeah! -All right, all right.
Thanks so much for coming out to support our little showcase, man.
Yo, D worked so hard on all the beats your hear tonight.
-So let's give it up for D, man. -[cheering and applause]
Give me some of that Big D energy.
Yeah, yeah. All right.
Oh, no. I'm good. Thank you.
You said you want to keep flowing, right?
Okay. Yeah, it's a little puff, right? [chuckles]
Yeah.
Mmm!
[imitating robot]
[chuckling] Yeah, RadhaMUS!
Yeah. Flowing.
Mmm.
Is that Colorado? That's...
I can't take any credit for this next act.
No, this is all D's discovery, yo.
Give it up for a much older female MC, RadhaMUSprime!
[audience cheering]
[student] Yeah, Miss B!
Hey, guys. Thanks for coming out.
Friends, students.
[whistling]
Kick that beat, DJ. D... J.
[hip-hop beat playing]
[Radha] Yeah.
Yo. Uh!
Yeah.
It's RadhaMUSprime. 40-year-old version.
Go, Radha!
-You got this, B! -[Radha] ♪ Yo, yo ♪
♪ Yo, yo, yo ♪
Yo. Archie?
Oh, my God, Archie?
DJ, DJ, cut the music off.
Cut the music off.
[music stops]
Oh, my God, Archie. You came to my show.
You never let me down, do you?
Guys, give it up for Archie. This is my best friend since...
You can't tell right now, but he used to have a beard in high school.
[laughing]
Oh, my God! That was funny.
Before I go on, let's give it up for D,
who awesomely crafted all the beats that you're hearing here tonight...
[audience chattering]
...making Brooklyn and his dead mother so proud, you know.
See, not all Black men
are in jail knocking up babies that they can't take care of.
[imitates explosion]
Woke.
So, uh... [stammering] Sorry.
Bring that beat back. How about that?
-Huh? Huh? -[hip-hop beat playing]
Yeah.
Come on, y'all.
♪ Yo, yo, yo ♪
♪ Yo, yo, yo, yo ♪
♪ Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo ♪
-What the fuck? -[Radha] ♪ Yo, yo, yo ♪
♪ Yo, yo ♪
♪ Yo, yo, yo, yo ♪
♪ Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo ♪
♪ Yo, yo… yo ♪
Yo?
[Radha sobbing]
Archie, what's wrong with me?
[Archie] Hey, it's okay.
[Radha] I'm not a fucking rapper.
I'm a playwright.
[sobbing]
Oh, God. Give me a chance to make this right.
Oh! Oh, God.
I'm-- I'm still rhyming,
and I didn't mean to rhyme,
not that time.
Oh, God, I'm still doing it.
Damn. Damn, damn.
Oh, I'm so sorry.
Oh, my poor ebony flower.
I'm not going to use my lips to tell you I told you so, but...
[woman] Folks out there is watching us.
We gots to give some kind of contribution.
You know?
["For the One Who Planted Roses in My Heart" by Courtney Bryan playing]
[Archie] Did you want them back?
[Radha] Mm-mm.
Why? They're yours.
You paid for them.
You were one of her few actual patrons.
[Radha sighs]
You know, they say that after your mother dies you see her in a dream, but...
a whole year passes and nothing.
Oh, shit, even my dreams need rewrites.
You should talk to someone.
[Radha grunts]
How's your brother holding up?
I don't know. We keep missing each other.
Wait a minute.
Where's Antonio?
[grunts] He left.
What?
-Jack Llenna's premiere got moved. -Mm-hmm.
He's my top-grossing client. I couldn't miss it.
So, I had to postpone Greece.
No thongs. Shit.
Antonio lost it. Said I care more about my clients than I do him.
Lies.
-[pops tongue] -[chuckles]
-Well, you know what? Fuck Antonio. -[scoffs]
Maybe now you can date Korean.
You sound like my mother.
[Asian accent] "Why you not try Korean guy?"
"Why you not bring Korean baby?"
-Um, no. -What?
What? Oh, I can't do that because I'm Black?
Uh, who's racist now?
And scene. That's a wrap on Shut the Fuck Up.
[both chuckle]
I'll do it.
Shut the Fuck Up?
No, Whitman.
I'll do the play if you think that he would still--
Of course. I had him in the palm...
He'll do it.
Are you sure?
Yeah.
[shouting gleefully]
"Come. Drink of mommy milk."
Look, I ain't say that you couldn't,
but you shouldn't.
[woman] Not some rapping pipe dream at your age.
Hell no!
We gots to be sensible.
Now, since retiring,
I took it upon myself to impart
my own ministry of truth around Harlem.
You might not want to hear the truth,
but like these mosquitoes...
[rapping indistinctly]
...I'm biting that ass.
[Whitman laughing]
-I love the new characters. -You do?
Yes. The sassy old Black woman doling out unwanted advice.
Love her.
The teens are fine. You just need to spice them up with a little rap number.
[Radha] Hmm.
Don't stress.
We're going to organize a workshop and you'll be able to see all the changes.
Great. Um...
Before I forget, I just wanted to say to you that I--
It's okay. I spoke to Archie.
And I know about your dead mom
and how sorry you are for choking me.
-Mmm. -Look, no more apologies.
-I'm over it and we can move on. -Okay.
Plus, we've got a little buzz, and buzz means butts in seats.
-[laughing] -Great.
I also wanted to talk to you about...
having a Black director is really important to me.
Of course, we want that for you, too. We'll make that happen.
-Okay? All right. -Yeah.
-Oh, one more note... -Mm-hmm?
Gentrification.
It shouldn't just be this thing that's happening out there.
We need to personify it in the play, you know?
-[sharply inhales] Not quite. -Well-- well, look...
If we have a Black couple facing gentrification in Harlem,
we need to know just who's gentrifying.
Mmm, I don't know. See, my play is about--
I know what your play's about,
and I also know we need to grab the core audience.
And to do that, you have to write them in the play.
Good.
[students laughing]
I wish I could have been there. Oh, my God.
She's like, "Yo, yo, yo!"
Okay, fine. So we have this spermazoid.
Ah, but what is his motivation?
-What is he after? You know? -Hey.
-Heard your show was "da bomb." -[girls laughing]
[imitating Radha] "Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo!"
RadhaMUS? More like NotiMUS.
[laughing]
I'll bust her ass if you want.
Man, fuck her, Miss B.
Aight? We just glad to have you back. We missed you.
Word, yo. What happened up there?
Sound like you was having a stroke or something.
No pendejo. Clearly she had a nervous breakdown.
They was calling you "frozen yo-gurt," Miss B.
[student] I heard somebody say "the human yo-yo."
You want to talk about it?
[girls continue laughing]
[Archie] So, you're okay with everything, then?
Well, no, it's not the director that I wanted, you know?
Her all-male version of Steel Magnolias was amazing.
There go my fears.
It's just a workshop, right?
No, you're right. It's just a workshop. I'm going to power through it.
That's my girl.
[footsteps approaching]
-Look, Archie, I'm gonna call you later. -Okay, bye.
Thanks.
-Hey, girl! -Hey!
You recovered from the other night?
Who, me? Oh, yeah. No, I'm good.
Yeah, that was like a live... performance experimental thing that I was going for.
But I'm glad you're here.
-Girl, you know I love this play. -Cool.
I mean, it's a bit different than I remember.
Yeah, my producer gave me some notes.
Um, turns out I don't need 15 characters.
[laughing]
And he's writing the check, so you know how that goes.
-Yeah. -So you fine with all the changes?
Uh, yeah.
Yeah. I mean, you know, Stacey,
writing is rewriting, and I just decided with this draft,
to hone in on a more, uh, universal tone, you know?
Harlem.
For all its color and splendor and beauty,
still has a way to go, you know?
Like, what's a girl gotta do to get some soy milk around here?
Baby, I hear you. I'm not suggesting we change our whole flow,
just that we incorporate some of the things these new Harlemites want.
"New Harlemites"?
Does that even sound right?
Baby, we can't be changing for them.
We gots to--
[exhales]
We gots to--
[exhales]
Um, Radha?
Yeah.
Look, I don't mean to...
No. Go ahead. This is exactly why we're here.
This is the work. We are working it.
Okay. Why is she talking like this?
[both] Um...
-Uh, that's a good question. -[Radha] Mm-hmm.
The wife, she is trying to persuade her husband.
He wants to stock the shelves with soy milk,
and she's concerned about the gentrification.
No, no, I know what her concerns are.
I'm wondering about the language.
Ah! The vernacular, the verbiage.
Um, well, um, why don't we ask our playwright?
Okay. Uh, well, the wife, um... she's from the old school.
She's 35.
I know. I know that.
I know that.
Um, I guess what I mean is that she
is rooted in, like, a deep... Southern mystical charm.
-You know? -Not quite.
I get it.
I'm wondering why she's the only character talking like that.
Jamie doesn't talk like that. Marcus doesn't talk like that.
Okay, the fact that the wife speaks one way and Jamie speaks another
is because, um...
-I'm white. -No, no, no! No!
No, no, no.
Race in this moment is completely irrelevant.
Okay, look, I know why the wife speaks this way.
I just, uh, can't quite articulate that, but I need for you to keep
talking that way so I can learn what it is
and then give that to you so that you can then give that to us.
Okay?
[Julie] Okay.
Back to it, baby.
[phone ringing]
I... wow. I am so sorry.
I'm just gonna take this really quickly.
-Hello? -[hip-hop beat playing]
[rapping] ♪ I'm fresh to death I want my check ♪
♪ I want respect I want my check ♪
♪ All eyes on deck I want my check ♪
♪ Don't start no shit Give me my check ♪
And, uh, who the fuck is that?
RosettaMUSprime.
Funny.
[D] I mean, you don't want these beats.
I never said that.
Look, I sent you, like, 300 texts, my nigga, and I don't text.
Yeah, uh, I've just been busy with rehearsals of my play.
[D] Yo, when we finishing this shit?
You had a bad night.
No, I had a lapse in judgment.
[D] What you talking about?
Oh, a lapse in judgment is when someone is, you know--
No, I know.
What? You don't want to fuck with this music shit no more?
Hello?
-D... -What?
Don't be that way, okay?
Look, it's not a total loss.
I'm actually thinking of incorporating some of the rhymes into my play.
What?
[Radha] Look, I just, um... I need to be realistic about things.
I'm three months shy of 40, okay?
[D] So?
So I need to stay in my lane.
You know?
Hello?
I heard you.
[Radha] Look, it's just that I--
Hello?
Really?
Hey, are we going to spit this fire or what?
This... is not... soy milk, people.
No, what's in this carton is what each of the characters need from each other.
It's... it's love.
It's fresh air.
It's fresh produce. It's...
rent-controlled apartments. It's block parties.
It's...
it's old Black women...
sitting on a stoop,
humming...
as they open...
their arms...
[panting]
...to welcome the fresh blood
into the veins of Harlem.
This is not soy milk.
This is life.
Fuck.
[on phone] It's your brother, again.
For real, Radha?
You're not going to call me back?
That's fucked up, yo.
Got these good oils, people. These good oils, you wanna get in on this.
Get on this, sweetheart. Got these good oils. My brother.
Hey, sister, I got these oils.
You should buy them.
It only costs a dollar. You should try it.
-I'm okay. -I'm your local Muslim from the hood.
Sister, let me make you smell good.
You look like you stressed...
but I'mma give it the best. Understand that. Get these good oils.
Right here, from your Muslim man right here.
[keys clacking] "Well, I have ideas, too.
[Radha] Why can't we just make a community garden?"
"It's not that simple."
"It is. You just have to change your perspective."
"T'aint nothing wrong with my damn perspective."
"Excuse me? Don't take that tone with me."
"Ladies, ladies, stop.
Just... stop."
[Radha moaning]
"This some bullshit."
[exhales]
[rapping] This some bullshit This some, this some bullshit
This some bullshit This some, this some bullshit
[hip-hop beat playing]
♪ This some fucking bullshit Why you fucking do this? ♪
♪ Who the fuck you fooling? ♪
♪ Acting like your cool, sis Selling out your soul ♪
♪ But fucking up your axis Trying to get some flow ♪
♪ But laying on your back, sis ♪
♪ Lettin' niggas fuck you raw Just to get some access ♪
♪ Mama raised you better But yet and still your ass is ♪
♪ Fucking for chips Sucking white, wrinkly dicks ♪
♪ Just to be a New York Times theater pick ♪
♪ Shit ♪
[student] So...
you gonna let me in or what?
Preposterous!
You killed all my gods, destroyed my spermicide castle,
and now you expect me to let you in?
Have I not proven that I'd do anything to get to you?
What I look like, some stupid ho that I go for dumb shit like that?
That's not even the line, Rosa!
[Rosa] So?
So, you just can't be changing shit up like that.
Aight, first of all, she got to be more feminist, yo.
She can't just be letting some dude...
[Radha] Hey!
-You coming in? -Nah, I'm good.
-You sure? You can, you know. -I'm good.
You're not good, you're bad as hell is what you are.
-[beat playing] -♪ Niggas wanna laugh, laugh ♪
♪ We clap, clap with Black acts ♪
♪ Niggas wanna switch hit We get lit with six clips ♪
♪ Niggas wanna slide by like drive bys? ♪
♪ We got clockwork orange Needles for eyes, guys ♪
♪ I rack them hoes, take them blows ♪
-[beat stops] -Shake up the re-up boys and--
Yo, nigga, what the fuck, man? Hello?
Yo, my fault, son. You wanna run that back?
-[beat starts again] -Nigga, where you at?
You still tripping over that old broad?
Nigga, fuck you. She's not old.
Shit, nigga, she ain't young.
-[laughing] -Nigga going, "She ain't old."
You know, at least she gave me some storytelling.
Like, what the fuck are you even saying in there?
You even know?
Yo, half of y'all niggas,
y'all just be coming in here stringing words together like you doing something.
Nigga, I make the beats, but God damn, son!
Sometimes you need some storytelling.
Like, what are you even talkin' about?
[clicks tongue] Man... my shit.
I'm ready, fuck it. Play the beat.
Harlem...
the place I've called home my whole life.
Harlem...
she wrapped me in her arms and mothered me when my own mother passed on.
Harlem...
where I became a wife,
a business owner,
where I'd imagine owning my own home one day,
but where a woman can't even afford the damn rent.
-[muffled shouting] -Harlem...
-a place where I imagine... -[thudding]
...preparing meals in my own kitchen
and hope to hear my children call out to me--
-[D] Yo, Radha! -What the fuck?
I'm so sorry.
Let me... excuse me. Sorry.
I'll be right back. I'm so sorry.
I will fuck you up in this hallway, you hear me?
-[Radha] Oh, shit! D! -I will fuck you up.
[guard] You're not doing anything like that.
Hey, hey, hey! What's going on here?
Radha, can you tell this bitch you know me?
Sir, he's with me, please.
Fucking Robopop. Shit.
Radha.
Archie, this is D. D, this is Archie.
Can you give us a second, please?
Please?
[exhales]
Are you okay?
Yeah, when we finishing these tracks?
You can't be serious. I'm in the middle of a rehearsal.
[D] All right. I'll wait.
Okay.
I don't understand. I gave you guys a list of names.
We tried, but all the working Black directors are working.
-This fucking sucks. -It's gonna be fine.
Julie will give you what you need. She directed Raisin in the Sun, you know.
Radha, we need to move forward, okay? Good night.
Look, I know it's not ideal, but in three months when you're on Broadway,
you won't even remember this shit.
Oh, hello.
All right, listen. You just work on those rewrites that we talked about,
and then I'll talk to Whitman, and we'll smooth it--
Radha?
Radha!
♪ Oooh la la ah oui oui ♪
♪ I say Muhammad Ali Ya say Cassius Clay ♪
♪ Clay, Clay, Clay, Clay, Clay ♪
["DWYCK" by Gang Starr playing]
♪ Oooh la la ah oui oui ♪
♪ I say Muhammad Ali Ya say Cassius Clay ♪
♪ Clay, Clay, Clay, Clay, Clay ♪
[music continues on car stereo]
"Julie will give you what you need."
"Don't worry, Radha. Julie will give you what you need."
What the fuck does Julie know about living in Harlem?
Wait, where are we even going?
Guess I'm being kidnapped.
Is that you?
[D] What you think?
♪ Oooh la la ah oui oui ♪
♪ I say Muhammad Ali Ya say Cassius Clay ♪
♪ Clay, Clay, Clay, Clay, Clay ♪
[Radha] It's good.
♪ Oooh la la ah oui oui ♪
♪ I say Muhammad Ali Ya say Cassius Clay ♪
♪ Clay, Clay, Clay, Clay, Clay ♪
♪Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh ♪
[Radha] Oh.
We're in the Bronx.
Exactly where I thought I'd end my night and my life.
Thanks. Perfect.
What is going on?
No. No, no, no.
I'm not going to a damn party.
Look, it's not a party.
Just come on.
No, I have rewrites.
[D] Rewrites of what? That bullshit play?
Fuck you.
Aight, look.
Before, I overheard it from the hallway...
and the shit is corny.
Like you know anything about theater.
[D] There you go,
making your fucked up assumptions. Like, who ain't seen Hamilton?
-No, I'm not going to-- -Yo.
-Come on. Come on. -Great. Well, welcome to the Bronx.
[woman] Yeah, Babs Bunny the Girl. First lady of the streets.
QOTR. Y'all already know what it is.
Y'all ready for that real shit?
[audience cheering] Yeah!
Y'all ready for that raw shit?
[audience] Yeah!
Well, I need y'all to give it up for the ladies!
[audience cheering] Yeah!
Wow.
[host] Yeah, yeah, well we going to get right into it.
-[bell dinging] -Representing Murderville, Mount Vernon,
give it up for Shooney Da Rapper!
[cheering and applause]
[host] Representing Brooklyn,
-give it up for Ms.Fit! -[cheering and applause]
[host] Representing Queens, give it up for Miss Undastood!
[cheering and applause]
[host] Representing the BX, the Bronx,
give it up for Norma Bayts!
[cheering and applause]
Ladies, y'all already know what it is.
Ms.Fit, it's on you.
-[woman whooping] -[man] Yeah, sis!
[rapping] What the fuck is up?
Acting all fucking tough
Came here with your girls Fucking sluts
Probably suck a dick for Some pork rinds and a couple bucks
[audience reacting]
Enough's enough
I'll make you kiss the Glock Get your lips locked
Now, pucker up
[audience reacting]
I'll fuck her up My life was a hassle
I fight when I have to So keep it fruitful or this banana clip
Aim right for your apple
Ratchets blam Slap a fan
I'm good with the g's, bitch
Dapper Dan, I'll back the can Clap your man's
Your crew get out of line What it is, slime
Bow! I don't think your pack'll stand
[bell dinging]
[rapping] I handle business how I see fit
Celebrity status, I've got the once
Now, this the last time Y'all gonna see Fit
Who we talking 'bout? You going to play who?
Bitch, the autographic For trying to game
I pull out the sweeper And it's cleaning the room
Then it's metal to her face MF Doom
I've been Queen of the Ring So my body of work is solidified
It's a big difference
You wasn't with us shooting in the gym
So to get fit is cheap Planet Fitness
-[audience] Oh! -[bell dinging]
[audience cheering]
[rapping] Give it up
For Norma Bayts
The one who's battle rap career Is all over the place
Your butt might be real But your soul is fake
You are a salami and bacon with it
So I can't eat nothing off of Norma's plate
[audience reacting]
Is this y'all queen?
[audience] Hell no!
Y'all should watch how to throw An enormous shake
Come in here looking like A five-dollar movie Tuesday's
That's a cheap date
I'm trying to make it off my skills And my passion
You trying to make it Solely by thirst-trapping
Battle rap porn? Ma
You're going to need a hijab
Judging by your face You gonna need a kneecap
And I'mma call an imam To come and get this she-man
'Cause she GMO like watermelons Without the seeds, man
[audience cheering]
[rapping] Okay? Okay?
[all] Oh fucking kay!
I don't care if you Muslim
That dirty scarf mean your hair not done
Alhamdulillah
I plan to blow shit in this building When I'm done
I wax bitches
She need a hearing aid Read these lips, bitch, you're done
I'll carve the beats in her forehead
She'll get the reminder where I'm from
You seem smarter than you look
Nah, she that dumb You couldn't fuck with me in a threesome
Body bag would be this outcome
Bruce Leroy, you get Sho'nuff
How we kick it Head crack if I call a bluff
But a crackhead and her brains Spilling out is not enough
Y'all gonna have to dig up out the dirt To see the diamond in the rough
-[audience reacting] -Babs hit my line
With the negotiations Like this a paid hit job
Cool because I pull it off The hip quick with no prob
And it'll be a permanent head wrap For a hijab
-[audience cheering] -[bell dinging]
["I Want In" by Babs Bunny playing]
Oh, my God. My God, my God, my God.
That was amazing.
Glad I dragged you, huh?
Yes! Yes, I mean, I...
I heard about them,
and I might have seen a Queen of the Ring clip online or some shit,
but to be in there...
Thank you. Thanks.
Ah, no worries.
I got you. Anything you need.
["Adventure Time" by Nai Br.XX playing]
♪ Not asking for much ♪
♪ Just a little extra attention ♪
♪ No need to mention ♪
What?
Nothing.
♪ More than I can bear ♪
♪ And boy you're like my favorite pastime ♪
What?
Nothing.
♪ Never find a love like this ♪
♪ Make me feel like I never find a love like you ♪
Oh, yes.
Oh, brother. Oh, brother.
Oh, yeah.
Oh, oh.
Oh, shit. Mmm.
That's... Yeah, that's a young tongue there.
Oh, God. Are you... beat boxing down there?
Oh, my God! Oh shit!
D... E, F, G, H, I, J, K.
Oh, shit. Oh, shit. Oh, shit.
Oh, shit.
What you doing?
[clicks tongue] Me? I'm-- I'm writing on my bullshit play.
[both chuckle]
Yo, let me ask you a question.
You just asked me one.
I gotta ask you another one.
What?
Yo, you Muslim or something?
What?
Why you always got that thing on your head?
[scoffs]
I just... I wear my...
What does D stand for?
-You got it. -Okay. All right.
Oh, now, that's dope.
-Oh, the leg tat? -Yeah.
Thanks.
My mother drew that.
It's part of a series of greeting cards she did in the '70s
that never quite took off, but, yeah.
That must have been dope, though.
What?
Having an artist for your moms.
That's crazy.
She was great, but...
there were other parts, you know.
Government cheese, and, uh... squatting.
-Artist life. -Nah, word?
Yeah, God, my mother struggled. My dad did, too. Both of them.
As artists, you know?
My father was a jazz drummer.
But to support the family, he would do plumbing work.
And he did it so much that it would leave like permanent oil stains on his hand.
-That's crazy. -Yeah, and my mother...
when she wasn't painting, she was teaching.
[sighs] I said I would never.
Said you would never what? Like, teach kids?
Struggle.
But here I am.
[D sighs]
Yeah, my mom didn't think me making music made sense, either.
No?
Nah, but I'm like...
"You're the one that put Coltrane and Quincy, like, in me."
Know what I'm saying? "What did you expect?"
Right.
We good now, though.
Yeah?
I know she up there jamming to my shit right now,
-you know what I mean? -[chuckles]
Yours too, though.
[Radha] What? Jamming?
Nah, your moms.
She proud of you.
You ain't never try to... talk to her?
No.
Why not? Like...
I don't know. I don't know what I would say.
[D chuckles]
[beatboxing]
What?
What, what?
[rapping] Mama, Mama may I
Mama, Mama may I
Mama may I tell you How much I love you
And I would give all of these Beats equipment up
Just for one more chance to hug you
[Radha] Mmm!
Mama, may I
Mama, may I tell you how much I miss you
They preach all this masculinity shit But if you was here I'd kiss you
Wow.
Tell you, despite it all I still love you
Showed me gratitude by the handful
I know you not here I can still say that I'm thankful
Mama, may I
Mama, Mama, may I
Mama, may I
Mama, Mama, Mama, Mama, may I
Mama, may I say I wonder sometimes like
Are you the person feeding these rhymes
And if I'm not creating art Am I committing a crime
Mama, may I
'Cause sometimes I just be missing you like
Wishing you were here Instead of out there somewhere
Mama, may I
Mama, Mama, Mama, Mama, may I
May I, may I
Mama, may I
Mama, Mama, may I
Mama...
Are you good?
[Radha] Mm.
-Yeah, I'm good. -Are you sure?
-You sure? -Yeah. I'm good.
I'm good.
Yo, come through later.
Oh, I have rehearsals later, so...
So, come through after that.
I have previews in a couple of weeks, so...
um...
Yeah. No, that's cool. Fuck it. Do what you want.
What's the problem?
Let me ask you a question.
You were just talking shit before, right?
I'm sorry?
Nah, like, for the mixtape.
You never wanted to do this shit.
Nah, it's just another trip to the Black terrain for you.
I don't know what you're talking about.
That's crazy. I came to Harlem for this shit?
[car alarm beeps]
D! D, wait!
[clapping]
My baby's finally got her back blown out.
[grunts and laughs]
Come here. Come here. Let me talk to you.
[woman] I am me.
I am she.
I am Black divorcee.
Cut. I don't believe you.
Where's the rotting carcass of your broken heart?
I need to smell it.
Yeah.
There should be a fire in the crack of your ass.
Be the phoenix.
I am bursting out from behind the head!
Yes, damn it! Yes, damn it!
-You had your chance, Darlene! -Yeah, you had it!
-You had it, Darlene. Yes! -Now stay the fuck away!
Give it to me. Give it to me.
-Just let me say what I got to say. -Yes.
-Okay? -Uh-huh!
-I am me. -Me.
-I am free. -Free.
-I am Black di-vor-cee! -[shouting] Black di-vor-cee!
Yes! Yes!
[Forrest] Yes!
I'm Frank DiLella. Remember this face?
She was one of Spotlight Magazine's 30 Under 30 playwrights to watch.
We watched, but where'd she go?
Well, after years of obscurity, she's returned
to the theater in J. Whitman's searing new production of Harlem Avenue,
directed by Julie Lipshitz.
It's Harlem Ave, but okay.
Harlem Ave premieres in just a couple days.
Welcome, New York playwright, Radha Blank.
Frank, it's so awesome to be sitting with you. Thanks for having me.
Radha, where have you been?
I've been, uh, writing plays
and teaching theater to teens in Harlem.
Hey, guys.
-What's up? -[students] Hi!
Mmm, my boo look nice.
Yo, she's official, son.
That's my teacher, yo.
Speaking of Harlem, what is Harlem Ave about?
Harlem Ave is about...
a young Black couple, and their young white neighbor,
and how the three of them see gentrification from different angles.
What inspired you to write this?
I just wanted to talk about what's going on in Harlem.
Is it true you and J. Whitman
are collaborating on his new Ida B. Wells musical?
Who told you that? [chuckles]
With opening night just days away,
and a return to the theater in almost a decade...
Yes.
...what scares you the most about this moment?
-[Archie] Yes! -[Radha] No.
You are giving me Miss Sofia in the motherland realness.
No, I look like an angry mushroom.
No. No.
Look, don't worry about it. We'll find something.
My God.
Opening night is like, a few nights away,
and I feel like shit, Archie.
It's nerves. I've seen it a million times.
No, it's not nerves.
You still drinking that diet drink?
It's the play.
It's not mine anymore.
The next one will be.
What kind of fucking response is that?
Oh, no, hon. Do not come for me.
Why not?
Why not, Archie? You played your part.
-What? -Yeah.
Look, you got yourself here, okay? No one forced you to do anything.
You always do what you want. You fucked that 25-year-old.
-26! -Yeah, you did that rapping shit.
That rapping shit made me feel good about myself.
[Archie] Yeah, well, we all need something.
You acted like Whitman was our only shot.
Like I wasn't going to have another chance.
Don't you dare accuse me of not believing in you, okay?
Do you have any idea what I...
What?
Jiggled his balls a little, yes.
Anything for a friend.
[Radha] Oh!
Well, let's give it up for patron saint Archie.
Jiggling old wrinkly balls on behalf of the poor.
Please, Archie, you ain't do that shit for me.
-What? -You did it for yourself.
Now, tell me why the fuck am I still your client?
Oh, you want to go there.
We don't have to.
We all know you keep me around because it makes you feel better.
About?
About paying $5,000 a month for rent.
About taking vacations to Greece in your thongs and shit.
-Acting like you're not really even-- -What?
Korean?
I didn't say that.
Was my dad thrilled that my prom date was Black?
No, but thank God you were a girl.
You played along and saved my sissy ass from getting beat,
and I will always love you for that,
but we are grown,
and I am out and proud,
and very Korean.
And I don't owe you anything except friendship and honesty.
Yes, you are fucking talented.
Yes, your mom is dead, but you are not above being a sellout.
I'm not a sellout, Archie.
Take it back.
I said take it back.
You know what?
Fuck you.
Fuck these ugly-ass dresses.
And fuck opening night. I'm not even going.
-That dress did not deserve that! -[door slams]
Fuck! Fuck!
["Footsteps Of A Queen" by Courtney Bryan playing]
[exhales]
[hip-hop track playing]
[man rapping] One bad apple just spoiled the bunch
Looking at your face I just spoiled my lunch
You can't mess me or even test me
Because if you do, your face I'll punch [laughs]
Mmm, not quite.
[man chuckling]
About fucking time.
I'm here.
[Radha] When did she do this one?
I don't know.
I think right after you were born.
[Radha] Hmm.
Her Ethiopian Coptic art phase of the '70s.
[both chuckling]
So, what do we do with it now?
[sighs] I got most of her work at my place,
and I don't have any more room.
Uh, neither do I. I live in a box, remember?
Fine.
[scoffs] I guess we'll put it in storage.
[Radha] Wow.
You come here with a dream and your work ends up in storage.
Is that what you think of Ma?
No, I'm just saying.
Ma did what she wanted to.
She was a teacher. She was a curator.
She chanted. She traveled.
She did some art. She did some theater.
She lived a life.
She was a lot more than just these paintings.
No, but she came to New York to become a famous artist.
And what does she have to even show for it?
Us, you dummy.
She said that we were her greatest creation.
Mmm.
I really miss her.
Me too, sis.
[sighs]
[students chattering]
-'Sup, Miss B? -Hey. [chuckles]
Elaine.
You got a second?
How's it going?
I think you should come back to class.
I'm good.
I know.
That's why I think you should come back to class.
You're a natural, Elaine.
Look, I know we have some beef,
but I am completely over it,
especially since I know it had nothing to do with me.
What you mean?
I'm talking about expecting to like one kind of person
and then this other kind of person comes along and...
they affect you.
Rosa.
What about her?
[school bell droning]
I think you should stay for class.
Well, look here!
-Oh, boy. -Oh, shit. You back?
[Radha] Elaine?
Well, I guess if the dean said you have to come back to class,
you can understudy Rosa.
Wow. Black Jesus is really shining on you.
-Understudy? -Mm-hmm.
Nah. Mm-mm.
Oh, shit. Wild Woman Fights, Part Deux.
Look, Rosa, I don't even--
Nah, fuck that, Miss B. She ain't understudying me.
Calm down, Rosa, okay?
-She can have the damn part. -[all] What?
I'm sick of playing this broad, yo!
I mean, no offense, but these breeding chicks?
And then to have this Dumbo all up on me and shit?
I mean, I got range and shit, but I ain't that good.
Please, Elaine, take this shit.
You heard her.
So, does that mean I can simulate running up in Elaine now?
[student] Word, yo.
-Move! -Damn.
Wow.
About fucking time!
[all chuckle]
Hail, hail our new Queen of Vaginal Eggs.
[all] Hail, hail.
[Radha's knees crack]
[soft piano playing]
[Archie] Hey, let's not fight. It gives us wrinkles.
Look, I know you wanted to skip out, but it's still your big night.
Hope to see you.
Bye.
[D] Yo.
[answering machine beeps]
Hey, D, it's me, Radha.
Um...
I was just calling.
[exhales] Um...
Yeah, I don't know why I always wear this thing on my head.
Maybe for a... sense of comfort?
Anyway, I was just calling.
Okay.
See you later... or not.
[grunting]
Mmm!
Wait.
Why you all dressed up?
You going to a funeral?
What's up with this sandwich?
You poisoning me?
Shit! I'm dead.
[coughing]
I better finish it, though, huh?
Oswaldo Rivera.
Sorry, you're not on the list.
No, no, we on that list.
We know her. That's our teacher.
You just think we came from Harlem and got all dressed up and shit
just to harass your pasty white ass, that's what you saying?
What's the problem, lady? You need to see my tits or something?
[Radha] Okay, true.
It's my opening night, right?
But Archie was right.
I sold out.
And now what?
I have to go down and sit through that shit?
[sighs]
So, this is the part where I tell you I was an artist
who'd fallen from grace, right?
Then I impart some wisdom to you that changes your outlook
because you gave me a fucking sandwich?
Like I'm some fucking magical Negro
just sitting here with shit in my pants
so I can help you make up your mind?
Nope, I ain't that nigger.
And maybe next time, if it don't kill you,
could you put some mayonnaise on both sides of this dry-ass bread?
Trying to cut my throat the slow way.
You're welcome.
-Exciting, huh? -Yes.
And I've got insurance tonight,
so no bathroom breaks for me.
You missed the whole second act of that last play we went to,
-and the mockingbird didn't die. -Oh, good.
Radha?
-Hey. Hey. -Hey.
It's a really friendly house out there, you guys.
-Oh, good. -Yeah, break a leg.
[both] Thank you!
[Stacey vocalizing]
[Whitman chuckling] Enjoy yourselves tonight. Thank you.
-Archie! -Hey, I love the look.
Well, thank you. You, too.
-It's five minutes to curtain. -She's on her way.
I hope so.
Actually, I want her to meet the investors for the Shirley Chisholm musical.
Maybe you could come on as a producer.
If by "producer," you mean "jiggle your balls again,"
I think I'll pass.
Patty, Billy, how are you?
Isn't this a wonderful evening?
♪ Harlem ♪
-♪ Ave ♪ -[gun fires]
[upbeat hip-hop playing]
[vocalizing]
♪ Harlem Ave, Harlem Ave ♪
-[chuckling] Oh, shit. -♪ You might find love on Harlem Ave ♪
♪ Harlem Ave, Harlem Ave ♪
♪ You just might get shot on Harlem Ave ♪
♪ Harlem Ave, hub of Black and brown life ♪
♪ Where a culture once ripe Changed like the speed of light ♪
♪ Got your culture for sale Got your vultures that's pale ♪
♪ But the pulse of the city keeps raging on ♪
Is that supposed to be me?
♪ The pulse of the city keeps raging on ♪
-Oh, my bad. -It's okay.
♪ The pulse of the city keeps raging on ♪
♪ I said the pulse of the city Keeps raging on ♪
-♪ Harlem Ave, Harlem Ave ♪ -Oh, ho, ho!
♪ You might find love on Harlem Ave ♪
-♪ Harlem Ave, Harlem Ave ♪ -[Whitman laughing]
♪ You just might get shot on Harlem Ave ♪
[audience cheering]
Oh, you're all so wonderful.
Baby, I'm not saying I want to go back down south.
So... what are you saying, baby?
I'm saying it's just getting too expensive to stay here.
We gots to figure it outs.
What's a girl gotta do to get some soy milk around here?
[audience chuckling]
[Radha exhales]
[applause on monitor]
[groans]
[audience groaning on monitor]
[audience laughing]
What are you saying, sir?
Yeah, what are you saying?
I'm offering you half a million dollars for your shop.
[street kid] Mister, you can't do that.
Yo, this shop means everything to us.
Yeah, everything.
This shop means everything to me.
[developer] Well, it's not up to you... is it?
So... what'll it be?
Baby.
Honey.
♪ Harlem Ave ♪
-[gun blasts] -[all gasp]
♪ Harlem ♪
[applause]
[women chattering]
[woman] So much for insurance.
[groans] I'll be fast, promise.
[woman 2] You must. I can't miss a thing.
The first act was quite powerful, wasn't it?
[woman] Yes. And I love that Jamie girl.
-[woman 2] She's a star. -She's fabulous.
-[toilet flushes] -[woman 2] Raging on.
-City keeps raging on. -[woman] Catchy, isn't it?
I love that tune.
Marcus would still be here if it wasn't for you!
What did I do?
You came here... to Harlem. That's what you did.
Mm-hmm.
I do not accept your energy.
I'm not your enemy, I'm your neighbor.
Your friend, your...
Sister?
[both softly gasp]
[audience cheering, applause]
That was just fabulous.
Thank you. Thank you.
Isn't this a glorious night? Thank you so much.
Oh, my goodness. What a surprise. Thank you so much.
-This is just so wonderful... -Thank you, everybody.
-Our director, Julie Lipshitz. Thank you. -Thank you.
If I may, I just am so excited to share this moment with all of you.
I just want to thank our incredible cast. They worked so hard.
But nobody worked harder than our playwright.
-Yes. -And I would love to call her up.
-Radha, are you here? -Is she here? Did she come?
-Radha? -[Julie] Radha?
-Where are you? -[Whitman chuckling] Are you there?
Oh, ladies and gentlemen, Radha Blank.
Here she comes.
[all cheering, applause]
[Whitman] What a night.
Radha, this is so exciting for you. Congratulations.
Thank you. [chuckles]
Say something! Radha Blank!
[applause]
Yeah, Miss B!
[Radha] Um...
I want to thank this amazing cast.
Um, my amazing director Julie Lipshitz.
Thank you for bringing Harlem alive.
And, um, of course, J. Whitman.
-Thank you. -Where would I be without you?
[both chuckle]
Um...
[clicks tongue] Wow.
So, um... [clears throat]
Every playwright dreams of this...
moment.
[Radha clears throat]
Every playwright hopes...
every playwright hopes...
they don't write a piece of shit like this play.
[audience murmuring]
My, um... mother raised me to be fearless,
and, um...
I guess when she died, I...
that's when I started getting afraid.
Oof. [chuckles]
[imitating robot]
Hmm.
[rapping] I got really afraid
Scared of the choices And the bullshit I made
Thinking I wouldn't get paid
But I'm Carol's daughter So that shit don't stain
I gotta tell you, a nigga was choking
Tired of selling my soul For these tokens, these coins
[scoffs] But guess what? I made a different choice
Because it's time to FYOV Find your own voice
FYOV
Forty-year-old version, indubitably
FYOV
Not telling truth Just don't make sense to me
Holding back from who you should be
FYOV
Fund your own vision
Fill your own void
Find your own voice
Fuck you old vultures
Forty-year-old version
That's who I be
I'm out
-[mic feeding back] -[audience murmuring]
[students cheering] Yeah!
Woo!
Miss B, that's right!
-Radha. -No!
-Radha... -No!
-Radha! -No!
If you're gonna tell me that I fucked up again,
-I don't want to hear it. -Radha, I get it.
You did good.
I'm proud of you.
-I quit. -You're fired.
[both chuckle]
I love you, Archie.
I love you, too.
[Radha sighs]
-Okay, I gotta go. -What?
I gotta handle some business.
You know... business.
Oh!
Okay.
Mmm.
-[Archie] Mm-hmm. -Mm-hmm!
Get it. Get it.
["Love and Peace" by Quincy Jones playing]
[woman on PA] This is a Brooklyn bound C local train.
[woman rapping] ♪ From these words out my lips ♪
♪ Fucking vocal eclipse 'Cause your shit isn't lit ♪
♪ Not remarkable or sparkable Like lyrical spliffs ♪
♪ I'm lit as it gets... ♪
That girl that was rhyming?
Oh, yeah, that's Kaya from Queens.
-She's fucking dope. -Yeah.
And age appropriate.
And also my little cousin.
For real?
[chuckles] Yeah.
Okay.
You look nice.
Thank you. It was opening night.
Of your play?
Yep.
So, what you doing here?
I don't know.
[D] I got this new joint, though! It's crazy!
[Radha] Let me guess.
You looped baby goats crying.
Nah, but that's good.
-Mennonite chants. -Oh.
-What? [laughing] -Yeah, shit's crazy.
-On a serious note, though... -What?
You been... like, you been writing since...
[Radha] No.
[D] So, we go off top of the dome, then.
-[Radha] Okay. -I got a beat on me right now.
-What we doing? -What? What you got?
[D beatboxing]
[Radha rapping] Yeah
Uh
Word
Yo
I think I just saw a rat
This gonna make a fat girl start running
Under the sun and
Out, in and out
Ain't no doubt
I used to have clout like Cardi B
There's a part of me
[laughing] That's real hard on me
["Love and Peace - Da Beatminerz Remix" by Quincy Jones playing]
[woman] Hey, not a bad ending.
Could have been a little bit more sex in there,
but, hey, life is interesting.
I know because I done it.
Been here around this United States,
had many lovers, interesting jobs,
like coat check girl at the Savoy.
Hell, I even ran some numbers.
So, you see,
I know how to make it out here.
For one, I went to Paris.
[Lamont] Would you shut up already?
Now, if you ain't gonna come over here and give me some food
or some ass, shut the fuck up!
[Radha] ♪ Yo, DJ Jahmedicine ♪
♪ You know I don't believe What I just saw, yo ♪
♪ I got off 145 Guess who pass? ♪
♪ A skinny white dude with the fattest ass ♪
♪ Yo, he was standing with his Becky ♪
♪ When her eyes met mine She looked away like she was shamed, G ♪
♪ They must of had a real love ♪
♪ Or that bitch had a fetish For some Black girl butt ♪
♪ But a butt But a butt painted white ♪
♪ Connected to a pink ding-a-ling ♪
♪ It made me sing ♪
♪ White man with a Black woman's butt ♪
♪ How you carry all that back there? ♪
♪ What the fuck? ♪
♪ White man with a Black woman's butt ♪
♪ How you carry all that back there? ♪
♪ What the fuck? ♪
♪ Yo, you seen the Color Purple? ♪
♪ So maybe you know what us Black women go through, not! ♪
♪ Every day on the street ♪
♪ Niggas holla at us like we just A piece of meat ♪
♪ But, but you the white man ♪
♪ With an ass so fat, maybe you understand ♪
♪ I bet dudes think they straight ♪
♪ Then they look at your fat ass And think, "Wait!" ♪
♪ White man with a Black woman's butt ♪
[audience laughing]