Dave Chappelle: The Bird Revelation (2017) Movie Script
Sometimes,
the funniest thing to say is mean.
You know what I mean?
It's a tough position to be in.
So I say a lot of mean things,
but you guys got to remember.
I'm not saying it to be mean.
I'm saying it because it's funny.
And everything's funny
till it happens to you.
Revelation
Don't stop. Keep on...
Sunshine
Ecstatic
Flaco
Boogieman
I'm standing in the sun
Getting black as I want
You playing good D
And that ain't backing me up
Sky woke a baby
Ain't no jackin' my hem
I got a whole lot to say
So I ain't talking to them
I hear knees dropping
I turn it up louder
Black freedom, black genius
Black power
Black ink
For printing the black dollar
Until I CIA
I say, "Now what?"
Phew.
Well, it's the last show.
Here we are.
Los Angeles.
The world capital of...
rape and dick breath.
The fuck has been going on out here?
Keeps getting worse.
Just when you think it can't get worse,
they got Charlie Rose today.
It's going to be a quiet morning
on the news tomorrow.
Charlie Rose. Who's next?
Captain Kangaroo?
Everybody is raping like hotcakes.
I, for one, am starting to get worried.
You know, I've been
in show business 30 years.
I had no idea how much danger I was in.
It's really some scary shit.
I gotta tell you.
Harvey Weinstein's probably
the first person that I ever
looked at a photograph of
and was like,
"Yeah, he rapes."
I'm not sure this motherfucker
has a choice.
Not a handsome man.
A lot of meat and extra skin on his face.
Yeah, he's ugly. You know, the sad part is
he's done so well in life,
he probably doesn't know he's ugly.
You know, when you're good-looking,
everybody will tell you.
"Oh, you look wonderful,
you're so great looking."
But when you're ugly.
You gotta figure that shit out
for yourself.
It's a lot of putting clues together,
really is.
"Why am I not getting in the club?
I got all the right shit on."
If it was Brad Pitt doing that shit,
you wouldn't have heard a peep.
Girl would've just come back down like,
"I got the part."
Yuck!
Good one.
Yet, and yet, it is important
that I acknowledge ladies.
You are absolutely right.
There you go.
And we gotta all be mindful of that, guys,
because...
this could have happened to any of us.
It could of happened to me.
I can see that.
I see myself showing up, "Hi, I'm here
for my three a.m. with Mr. Weinstein."
"Hey, Harvey, I got your text.
I'm here to talk about the script."
"Seems like it's going to be hard to read
in candlelight, but I guess I could try."
Sound like a fucking nightmare.
Could you imagine that shit? Could you imagine you was
in a business meeting and a motherfucker
pulled their dick out?
In the middle of the meeting?
I'd be like, "Yo!
Yo, my man, that is the most
unprofessional shitI've ever seen.
In all my days."
"Just let me finish, Dave Chappelle."
"I'll put you in all three
Lord of the Rings."
"Hurry up, nigga.
I have other meetings, you know."
"I have a 4:30 a.m.
at Brett Ratner's house, and uh..."
"I believe it's a wardrobe fitting."
Wow.
I mean, it is really bad out here,
isn't it?
Kevin Spacey is out here,
grabbing men by the pussy.
I didn't even know that was possible.
Jesus Christ.
He got the guy
from Star Trek: The Next Generation.
That's who he-- that's who he got.
The last time. It sounded like
he was more than that, but...
that's who-- that's who set it off.
He was 14-years-old. And Kevin Spacey
accosted him at a party,
which I gotta say, by the way,
just for the record,
I went to a lot of parties in my day.
Never been to a good one
that had 14-year-old boys in it.
Not even when I was 13,
you know what I mean.
Who was the kicker with a bunch
of Hubba Bubba chewing niggas like...
"I'm having a good time, nigga."
Yuck.
Ironically,
the kid grew up to be gay anyway.
Which means...
Kevin Spacey can sniff that shit out
like a truffle pig.
"Yeah, he's one of me."
And not to victim blame,
but it seems like the kind of situation
that a gay 14-year-old
would get himself into.
I know I didn't say that right,
but it's true, nigga, like...
You know why I said that though?
'Cause I went to an arts high school.
And, like, all them niggas was gay, man.
Like, in a high school,
all them dudes was gay.
And them gay dudes is way more mature
than the rest of us.
And we didn't know why,
we just knew they was mature.
Ever seen a gay dude at lunch?
Perfect posture, they just sitting there.
Eating responsibly.
Then they take that thermos out.
You be like, "What the fuck is that?"
"Is this nigga drinking wine with lunch?"
We didn't know what it was.
Because we were young boys just trying
to figure out who we were.
And we didn't realize these gay dudes
were fighting
to be who they knew they already were.
Some impressive shit.
They were fearless, the gay kids.
Fucking fearless.
I've never seen a scared gay dude
in my life.
What kind of man has no fear?
You could be tied up
in a hostage situation with a gay dude,
and them niggas still be like,
"I'm thirsty."
"Shh.
Shh!"
"I'm thirsty, David.
I need something to drink."
"Shh."
"Well, then shoot me.
I would rather die of a bullet
than dehydration.
Nigga, I am thirsty. I need some water."
All jokes aside,
Kevin Spacey shouldn't have done that shit
to that kid.
He was 14-years-old
and was forced
to carry a grown man's secret.
For 30 years.
Jesus Christ, he must have been busting
at the seams with that one.
The saddest part is, if he were able
to carry that secret for six more months,
I would get to know
how House of Cards ends.
Yep, ladies and gentlemen,
these are dark...
dark, dark times.
New York Times said that Louis CK
jizzed on his own stomach.
Now, I've busted a lot of nuts in my day.
None of them were newsworthy.
Shit was really gross. 'Cause they didn't
just say it like I said it.
They didn't just say,
"Jizz on the stomach."
They said it in that fucking
Pulitzer prize-winning style
that the New York Times has.
It was very descriptive,
like, you know what I mean?
"Louis CK's semen shot out
like a volcano ofmisogyny,
slowly drizzling down like lava,
covering his freckled penis
as it slowly dripped
to a fiery crown of red hair."
Like, Jesus Christ, I'm trying to eat some
huevos rancheros,and this nigga is...
And you know the tough part of being
a comedian is knowing the motherfuckers.
Everybody comes up to me like,
"Did you know?
Did you know what Louis was doing?"
"No, bitch. I did not know."
The fuck you think we talk about
at the comedy club?
"Hey, how was the weekend?"
"Great, man.
I was just jerking off in faces
and cumming on my own stomach,
having a good time.
You know how this business is."
No, I didn't know.
They act like we sit around like Grease.
Tell me more, tell me more
Did she put up a fight?
Sorry, I don't know the choreography,
but you get the point.
You get the point.
Shit was intense.
But Louis was like the turning point.
I mean, you know, all these allegations
are terrible.
Louis's was the only--
I shouldn't say this but fuck it,
his allegation was the only one
that made me like laugh.
Well, if you think about it...
Because all his friends are reading it
and he's jerking off
and he's surprising people.
He's surprising them, he's jerking off.
I just picture all the comics in comedy
just reading that like, "What?"
It's terrible. I know, it's terrible.
I'm sorry, ladies.
You're right. You are right.
But at the same time, I mean,
you know what I mean. I don't know.
Jesus Christ, they took everything
from Louis. That was like...
I don't know, it might be
disproportionate. I can't tell.
I can't tell. This is like
where it's hard to bea man.
One lady said, "Louis CK masturbated
in front of me,
ruined my comedy dreams."
Word?
Well, then I dare say, Madam, you may have never had a dream.
Come on, man. That's a brittle spirit.
That is a brittle-ass spirit.
That shit is too much.
This is a grown-ass woman.
You know what this shit is like?
It's likeCOINTELPRO.
You know what that is?
It's the programming the FBI had
on J. Edgar Hoover.
In this program,
one of the many things they did
was they would track
the sexual habits of anyone
they considered an enemy of the state.
It's a loop button. That's why they've got
all these fucking sex tapes
with Martin Luther King fucking bitches.
But lucky for us, he actually had a dream.
You think if Louis CK jerked off
in front of Dr. King, he'd be like,
"I can't continue this movement.
I'm sorry, but the freedom
of black people must be stopped.
I didn't know this nigga was going to pull
this dick out and jerk off like this.
I just thought we were gonna get
a couple drinks and chill."
Show business is just harder than that.
Them women sounding like...
I hate to say it, y'all, they sound weak.
I know it sounds fucked up.
I'm not supposed to say that,
but one of these ladies was like,
"Louis CK was masturbating
while I was on the phone with him."
Bitch, you don't know how
to hang up a phone?
How the fuck are you going to survive
in show business
if this is an actual obstacle
to your dreams?
I know Louis is wrong, man.
I'm just saying, I'm held to a higher
standard of accountability
than these women are.
Don't forget who I am.
Don't forget what I am.
I am a black dude.
And don't ever forget how I got here.
My ancestors were kidnapped.
I don't even know where the fuck I'm from.
They were put on the bottom of boats.
They sailed them across the Atlantic.
Many of them died.
Only the strongest survived.
And once they got here,
they beat the humanity out of my people.
They turned us into beasts of burdens.
They made us do their work,
and the irony is, hundreds of years later
they're calling us lazy.
We fought in the Civil War.
We damn near freed ourselves.
Then, with Reconstruction,
black people did great.
My great-grandfather
was a very wealthy man.
But then the Black Codes came,
Jim Crow came, and it was a hundred years
of unspeakable oppression again.
Lynchings, all kinds of terroristic acts
to keep us in the margins of society.
Yet, we still fought.
And Dr. King was born.
And then, things got better.
Twenty years
after Dr. King was assassinated,
Michael Jackson was moonwalking
on television.
Something, something, something.
Barack Obama.
Donald Trump and...
Now here we all are.
400-year nightmare.
Took us 400 years
to figure out as a people
that white people's weakness
the whole time
was kneeling during the national anthem.
That's a brittle spirit.
That's right, nigga.
On the rockets red glare...
"What are you doing, nigga? Stand up!"
The vice president of the United States
got involved. Mike Pence got involved.
He went to the game himself.
"These niggers will have to stand
when they see me."
And all the football players looked up
in the stands and saw Mike Pence.
"Is that Mike Pence?
Come on, y'all. Wu Tang bow."
Foiled.
Brittle spirit.
I could kill every white person in America
at one time. Know how I'd do it?
I would just wait for the Super Bowl.
Right when they sang the national anthem,
I'd have OJ Simpson walk
to the 50-yard line
with them bad knees.
"Is that OJ Simpson on the field?
What the hell's he doing here?"
"Oh, I know what he's gonna do.
Stop him!"
You gotta man the fuck up, yo.
I don't mean to be disrespectful, because
I know you're upset with what I said.
But, you know, I know you're--
I know you're right.
But come on, baby, it's me.
I was right once, remember that?
Does anybody remember when I was missing
from show business for 12 years?
Remember when I had
this really popular show and I quit?
I remember I walked away
from $50 million.
A lot harder than walking away
from Louis' freckled dick.
I didn't know that I'd ever work again.
And yet, here I am tonight.
Did my dream die? No.
I remember that shit.
You don't remember that,
when I quit my shit?
On the way out the door I said,
"Something's wrong in Hollywood."
I believe they said I smoked crack.
That's what I remember.
I remember they called me crazy.
So really, you know, you're right, ladies.
Congratulations.
Enjoy it.
And they're coming for you, bitches.
They're coming for you.
One person that's uncomfortable--
Know who's the most uncomfortable
motherfucker in the room?
The nigga that's right.
I was right at an orgy once.
Nobody fucked me.
I was just walking around like Tom Cruise
at the movies, just looking.
And ruined the whole orgy by accident.
It's easier to ruin an orgy
than you think.
All you gotta do is wait for it
to get kind of quiet and then go, "Eww."
And I feel bad.
But I just feel like
this is all happening for a reason.
And, ladies, I want you to win this fight.
Ten years ago I might have been scared,
but, you know, I got a daughter now.
So if you win, she wins.
So I'm rooting for you.
And I agree with you.
At least, ideologically, I do.
I don't know if the--
I don't know if you're doing it right,
but I mean, who am I to say?
I don't think you're wrong.
I just think that... You can't make a lasting peace this way.
You got all the bad guys scared.
And that's good,
but the minute they're not scared anymore,
it will get worse than it was before.
Fear does not make lasting peace.
Ask black people.
And that's what it is.
What this city really needs...
Without irony, I'll say this.
The cure for LA is in South Africa.
You motherfuckers need truth
and reconciliation with one another.
Because the end of apartheid
should have been a fucking bloodbath
by any metric in human history,
and it wasn't.
The only reason it wasn't
is because Desmond Tutu
and Mandela and all these guys
figured out
that if a system is corrupt,
then the people who adhere to the system
and are incentivized by that system
are not criminals.
They are victims,
and the system itself must be tried,
but because of how systems work
is so compartmentalized
as far as information,
the only way
we can figure out what the system is
is if everybody says what they did.
Tell him how you participated.
Because men want to help,
they're just scared.
Ben Affleck tried to help. "What happened
to these ladies is disgusting."
"Oh, nigga, you grabbed a titty in '95."
"All right, fellas, I'm out."
"Fuck that, I ain't helping."
I just want to help.
I want to be a good guy.
Like, I can't even say the word
"me too" anymore.
A nigga was like,
"Dave, I'm going to the comedy club."
I was like,
"I am also going to the comedy club."
And I didn't even know it was happening,
but I guess I became like a feminist
in the last three weeks
because I can't watch porn the same.
Like, I watch it sometimes,
but I can't-- I can't click
on these motherfucking thumbnails,
not with those titles.
"Guy crams young girl in the ass
with hard rod."
I can't click on that.
Come on, nigga.
Give me something I can click on.
"Dude gets sucked off by a midget."
"Little person!" I say to myself.
Takes me hours to find one clip.
"What the hell is this?
Marginally groomed feminist
enjoys consensual sex with...
vaguely homosexual guy whose penis
is the same color as mine."
Click.
A lot of black dudes haven't been getting
"me too-ed." I don't want to jinx myself.
You know why, though?
Obviously, black women
go through the same thing, right?
The reason is because black women
from slavery
won't tell on us.
Because they know
that no matter how bad we black dudes are,
white dudes are very mean.
They're scared to see us get punished.
My wife is Asian. She'd tell on me
in a goddamn second.
Ain't no fucking up
in the Chappelle household.
The wildest shit about it
is I live in Trump country.
I live amongst the tiki torch whites.
Poor white people.
And I'm rich.
If it's ever pitchfork time,
nigga, I'm in a lot of trouble.
And nobody in my family believes me.
I've been trying to tell the kids,
"We gotta run these drills."
They're like,
"We don't wanna run your stupid drills."
"Too bad, son. You have to.
If tiki torch whites come outside,
what are you guys supposed to do?"
"Come on, Dad."
"What are you guys supposed to do?"
"Squint our eyes and stand next to Mom."
"That's right."
"And what are you gonna bring me?"
"Your gun and your groundskeeper uniform."
"That's right."
"I'll go outside and see what they want."
It is wild, bro. Where you from, man?
Hmm?
Where you from?
-New York.
Brooklyn.
You are from Brooklyn, aren't you?
You look like you can rob somebody
with a hammer.
Brooklyn niggas rob you
with shit they find around the house.
"I just got stabbed with a toothbrush.
This nigga must be from Brooklyn."
I'm fucking around.
Yeah, man. Well, you ladies were right.
Be honest with you,
your lives look terrifying to me.
They do. Man, I know nothing
about being a woman, but I know fear.
Yo, I used to live in New York
when I was 17.
I couldn't even pay my bills.
You know what I did to make money?
I used to do shows for drug dealers
that wanted to clean their money up.
One time I did a real good set,
and these motherfuckers
called me in the back room.
They gave me $25,000 in cash.
I was probably 18, 19 years old.
I was scared.
I thanked them profusely,
I put that money in my backpack,
I jumped on the subway and started heading
towards Brooklyn at one in the morning.
Never been that terrified in my life.
Because I'd never in my life had something
that somebody else would want.
I thought to myself, "Jesus Christ,
if these motherfuckers knew
how much money I had in this backpack,
they'd kill me for it."
Then I thought, "Holy shit.
What if I had a pussy on me all the time?"
That's what women are dealing with.
I'm going to tell you right now.
It's real talk.
If them same drug dealers gave me a pussy and said, "Put this in your backpack
and take it to Brooklyn,"
I'd be like, "Nigga, I can't accept this."
I empathize, man, you know.
Everybody gets mad
because I say these jokes,
but you gotta understand
that this is the best time to say them.
More now than ever, and I know
there's some comedians in the back.
Motherfucker, you have a responsibility
to speak recklessly.
Otherwise my kids may never know
what reckless talk sounds like.
The joys of being wrong.
I didn't come here to be right,
I just came here to fuck around.
It's hot in here suddenly, isn't it?
Wonder where that heat came from.
I wonder what happened to me.
Where did I go for 12 years
if I wasn't raped?
Maybe there's something else going on.
Maybe these rapes aren't even the worst
of it. Wouldn't that be something?
Wouldn't that be something?
You can go to the bathroom, Brooklyn,
you don't need to hear this shit.
You see that motherfucker right there?
He's under an enormous amount of pressure.
He is. Just being big and black
with that hairdo, nigga,
these motherfuckers
are a suspect for everything.
Except white collar crime.
Sometimes I want to talk about where
I went, but y'all don't want to know.
I was gone for a long time, nigga.
I was in the upside down.
Scary being a white dude now, isn't it?
A little bit, no?
Well, you're not going to get "me too-ed."
You know what I mean.
It's funny for a black dude to see
white people go through this
because this is how it always is for us.
All my heroes were either murdered
by the government or...
are registered sex offenders.
Sad. I know, man.
We've already been through it.
Like Michael Jackson.
Remember when they said all that shit?
They neverproved anything
till his dying day.
But they said that he did
some very heinous things.
And one time I watched
a documentary about it.
They were talking all this shit
Michael Jackson allegedly did,
and as they were saying
all these allegations,
they started showing pictures
of his home-- Neverland Ranch.
You've ever seen Michael Jackson's house
on television?
Um...
Well, the short of it is
there's a lot of things for kids to do
at that place.
And I saw the whole thing.
Exotic animals and Ferris wheels
and merry-go-rounds and shit.
And the more they showed it,
the more certain I was that...
I don't think Michael Jackson
did any of those things they said he did.
His house didn't look sexual.
It looked like...
he was flossing with those motherfuckers.
Didn't look like he's trying to fuck kids,
looked like he's trying to impress 'em.
Like, this nigga's Jay-Z for kids.
He's just walking through his house.
"This is my cotton candy machine.
It makes three tons of cotton candy a day.
You can have all the cotton candy
you want.
This closet is filled with nothing
but custom-made karate slippers.
Isn't that cool?
Shall I have my monkey
bring us more cupcakes?
Hey, guys, let's watch a movie.
What movie do you want to see?
Home Alone?
No, don't touch the DVD player.
Macaulay Culkin's here, he can act it out.
Come on, Macaulay.
Act out Home Alone for my guest."
And the kids were like,
"Man, you are all right, mister.
This is fantastic, man.
We had you all wrong."
"Hmm?
All wrong I don't understand.
What do you mean?"
"Huh? Oh, well, you know, man.
We thought it was gonna be the usual.
You were gonna have uscome over
and give some wine cooler and...
you know, suck our dicks."
"What
Ooh, you faggot ass kids!
Nobody trying to suck your dick, nigga.
I was trying to show you a better life.
Bubbles. Get these kids
the fuck out of my house.
You're just like everyone else."
Hollywood is no place
for moral absolutism.
You know what I mean?
We must never forget
that R. Kelly peed on a 15-year-old girl.
And he also wrote "I Believe I Can Fly."
Same guy, same lifetime.
If I showed you that video
of him peeing on that girl,
and scored it to "I Believe I Can Fly,"
you'd be torn.
I used to think that I could not go on
You wouldn't know how to feel.
If I can see it
It's okay, my career ended
many years ago.
Order.
I know, I'm terrible, I'm terrible.
I'm sorry, everybody. I'm sorry.
Wanna know what happened to me?
Yes.
Nah.
It's tempting, but I don't want
to talk about it.
Maybe at the end.
When I run out of things to talk about.
Actually, I'm almost there.
I'm just trying to tell you what happened
to me was not--
I just didn't have a good go of it.
I don't know what you guys think happens
when you quit a successful show.
I'll tell you what doesn't happen.
They don't go,
"Hey, good luck
with your future endeavors."
That's not what happens.
It was cold out there.
For real, I had to watch it
all go down without me.
I had to watch all those people
do my show.
Key & Peele and Amy Schumer and...
Mind of Mencia. I'm not gonna say
they were doing my show.
I'm just saying they were awfully similar.
I was mad.
People would come up to me on the street,
"Yo, nigga."
Most people thought I was crazy,
but sometimes people come,
"Yo, nigga, you did the right thing, man.
You my hero."
Nigga, I don't want to be your hero.
I want to be rich.
Never choose to be a hero,
'cause heroes die uncomfortable deaths.
All I wanted to be was Paul Revere.
I just needed one heroic moment,
you understand?
"Paul Revere's Ride" was only one night.
And then 40 years of him being like,
"Hey, y'all, remember that time
everybody was asleep, and I was up,
and the British was coming?
Boy, it's a good thing I was awake, nigga,
everybody be dead.
Psh."
That's why I want to start a GoFundMe
for Colin Kaepernick.
I do, man. I'm fascinated with him.
I want to make sure he never
has to play football again.
He can if he wants to.
I just don't want to have to.
'Cause why the fuck not?
I know he's rich and people'd be like,
"I'm not giving a GoFundMe to rich dude."
But you should.
You should because
that motherfucker's life was going great.
He's so light skinned,
he didn't have to say he was black.
And yet,
he took a knee during that anthem for us.
Thought about us
when things were going good,
when his belly was full, when he was--
He didn't think about his livelihood
or any of that,
and they took his livelihood away
from him.
Like, man, that shouldn't be
the way it is.
Every fucking person that takes a stand
for somebody else always gets beat down.
And we watch.
Over and over and over again,
we watch it.
We should pay those motherfuckers
for blowing the whistle,
because they make our lives better,
and we could change the narrative.
We could make one motherfucker
have a good outcome
for doing the right thing
and that would make another motherfucker
brave enough to do the right thing.
And if you did that,
the niggas like Harvey Weinstein
wouldn't rape for 40 years
because a bitch want a stupid ass part.
We should take care of each other.
Wouldn't it be nice to be like,
"Remember that time he was gonna kill
Jesus but then he got all that money?"
Real talk, man.
It's not a racial thing.
It's about us making our society better.
It's about like even these women
that are coming forward,
and everyone says they're brave,
and many of them are.
And a few of them-- a few of them
sucked the dick and got buyer's remorse.
You know, that's a huge omission
from this narrative.
This wouldn't have gone this far
if some women weren't willing to do it.
You can't ask every woman
to hold the line.
Some women can carry things
heavier than others.
So we should fight for one another.
We should forgive the ones of us
that are weaker
and support the ones of us
that are stronger.
And then we can beat the thing.
If you guys keep going after individuals,
the system is going to stay intact.
You have to have men on your side.
And I'm telling you right now,
you're gonna have
a lot of imperfect allies.
I'll tell you what happened,
but I can't say it directly.
There's a book
to me that encapsulates
my entire experience.
Before I left the show.
And the book is called Pimp.
It's written by a guy named Iceberg Slim.
Yeah, bring it up here.
This is Matthew.
Matthew's from France. He's white.
And yet, he has an original copy
of this book
written by a black American
who was a pimp in the '40s.
Iceberg Slim.
His real name was Robert Beck.
He got the name Iceberg
because he was in a bar in Chicago,
and there was a shootout in the bar,
and a bullet went through
this nigga's hat,
and he still finished his drink.
Pimps love shit like that.
They said, "Man, you're ice cold."
And he said, "I like that."
And it stuck.
This book is so heavy in the front
and has a glossary of pimp terms,
because the ideas are so foreign
to the American ears.
For instance,
do you know what the phrase
"mileage on a ho" means?
Of course you don't.
Mileage on a ho is a very wild concept.
It means that pimps understand
there's a finite amount of bad shit
a person can do
before they lose their fucking mind.
And a good pimp can look at a woman
that he's never seen before and call it.
She's good for 500 fucks.
That's her mileage.
Anything over that,
that bitch is gonna spill.
They do it to you.
Why the fuck you think most of us work
from nine to five?
'Cause nine to six might kill a bitch.
Iceberg Slim was the one that broke down
what a bottom bitch was.
Does anyone know what a bottom bitch is?
Anyone?
What's a bottom bitch, sir?
It's your, uh-- it's your prostitute
that's the best out of all of 'em,
that bring in the most money.
That's right. That's exactly right.
Are you black?
That's right. A bottom bitch
is a pimp's number one ho.
She's even a bitch that helps him
keep the other bitches in line.
I will repeat.
She's even the bitch that helps him
keep the other bitches in line.
If the pimp was McDonald's,
then the bottom bitch is his French fries.
The rest of them bitches
like fish sandwiches
and cherry pies and shit like that.
Iceberg Slim breaks down some
of the coldest capitalist concepts
I've ever heard in my life.
He describes in detail
how these men break women
so that they will give them the money
that they make with their own bodies.
There's a story in here so cold,
it makes me shudder to think about it.
Iceberg Slim is trying to control
the woman that he finds uncontrollable.
So he asks an older pimp
how he can rein her in.
And the older pimp says,
"Oh, that's easy, Iceberg.
All you have to do
is beat that bitch with a coat hanger.
And then run her a bath.
And give her some pills.
She'll be so grateful that you fixed her,
that she'll forget
you were the motherfucker
that beat her in the first place."
That's some cold shit.
Now.
At the end of this book,
Iceberg Slim tells a story.
It's kind of the crescendo of the book.
And in the story,
Iceberg Slim's bottom bitch is
at the end of her mileage.
If she was good for 500 fucks,
she was at for 498.
She was bubbling, you could see it.
She was going crazy.
She started saying all kinds of shit.
"I always wanted to be in the circus."
Circus? This bitch is losing it.
"I can juggle, too, you know?"
Juggle?
He had to let her go.
It was hard to let a bottom bitch go,
and he wasn't ready to let her go
because his organization
couldn't handle losing her.
But she didn't know that.
She didn't know how important she was.
So what he did was,
he called her to ignite her.
He said, "Look, bitch,
you and I got to part ways."
She said, "Fine, motherfucker,
I don't need you anyway,
because I know somebody
at Ringling Brothers."
He was like, "All right, whatever.
I got one last trick for you.
It's a big money trick.
You do this for me,
you get paid, I get paid,
and we go our separate ways."
She said, "Fine, motherfucker,
what do you want me to do?"
He said, "Okay, there's a guy
in that hotel across the street.
He's waiting for you in room number seven.
I want you to go over there and fuck him.
But before you do,
I need to put some of this stuff
in his drink.
And then he's gonna fall asleep.
When he does, his briefcase on his bed,
bring the briefcase to me.
That's the trick, bitch.
Can you handle it?"
She said, "Fuck yeah, I can.
I can't wait to get rid of you."
And then she ran outside,
jumped on a unicycle
and peddled across the street.
And Iceberg watched her.
He's like, "Man, she's pretty good."
"If I never jerked off in her face, maybe
she would've been in the circus now."
And she runs up the motel steps
and disappears in room number seven.
She's gone for a real long time.
Real long time. So long, in fact,
that Iceberg got a little worried.
But then, suddenly, she came back.
He says, "Where's the briefcase?"
She said, "I didn't get it, Daddy."
"What do you mean you didn't?
What's wrong with you?"
She said, "I did everything you said,
but that man didn't look right.
Something wrong, Daddy."
"What do you mean?
Did you put that stuff in his drink?"
"I did everything you said, Daddy.
I put all of it in his drink."
He said, "Wait a minute, bitch,
you put all of it in his drink?"
Now he had to see for himself.
So the two of them go to the motel,
and they go into room number seven.
And on the bed laying lifelessly
is the white man
that she was supposed to fuck. Iceberg said, "You right, bitch.
He don't look good.
What the fuck?"
So he called a friend of his
that was a doctor that was close by.
And the doctor came in,
gave the guy a thorough examination
and told them both what was obvious.
"Slim, this motherfucker is dead."
"Oh, God, Daddy. Oh, no.
Oh, no. We killed him!"
He said, "Calm down, bitch.
We didn't do anything.
You killed this motherfucker."
And then he reached on the bed
and he grabbed the briefcase.
He popped it open.
It was filled with money.
More than any of them had ever seen.
Iceberg took a little bit of the money
and gave it to the doctor,
and the doctor left discreetly.
"All right, bitch, let me think.
I can fix this for you.
I know somebody I can call.
But if I call him,
I'm gonna owe these motherfuckers
a big favor."
"Oh, God, Daddy, please.
I don't want to go to jail."
"Neither do I, bitch, so you shut up."
He picked up the phone.
She heard him mumbling
in the phone a little bit.
He hung up the phone,
and then she waspacing the room,
and he was just standing there cool,
and they were waiting and waiting,
and then suddenly,
a van pulled up downstairs.
Two guys get out with a carpet.
They walk upstairs, they roll that carpet
out on the floor,
they throw the body in the carpet.
They roll that motherfucker up
like a burrito, they pick that shit up,
and they throw it in the back of the van.
They come back up
and Iceberg opens the briefcase again
and gives them a little money.
He says, "I'll get in touch
with you guys later."
They say, "You're not going to get
in touch with us, we'll find you."
He said, "Whatever, nigga."
And they bounced.
"Oh, God, Daddy. Oh, God."
He says, "Relax, bitch. Listen.
We getting the fuck out of here.
You go downstairs and you get the car.
We gotta leave separately."
She went, she got the car.
Iceberg grabbed that briefcase,
waited a few minutes,
looked out the window,
and then he went down with her.
They both got in the car,
and they drove off.
She was a blubbering mess.
"Oh!
Oh, we did all this shit!"
He said, "I told you bitch.
We didn't do anything."
You killed the motherfucker,
and I cleaned him up,
and now we got us a secret. Okay?
I know I'm not going to tell, bitch,
is you?"
"Oh, no, I ain't gonna tell."
He said, "All right, baby, cool.
I'm gonna need you to stay with me
for a while till this shit cools down."
She goes, "Okay, okay.
Okay."
That's the game.
That's how the whole shit works, ladies.
You understand?
This bitch was at the end of her mileage.
She was at for 498, she ended up tricking
for Iceberg for another six months.
She must have turned
another 200 tricks for him.
Do you understand? That's some cold shit.
And the cold shit about it
is that the dead guy on the bed
wasn't even dead at all.
This motherfucker was just a friend
of Iceberg's acting like he's asleep.
The doctor wasn't a doctor.
He was a motherfucking butcher
that happened to have a white coat.
And the dudes who came in the moving van
clothes was dressed like movers
because they were movers.
Iceberg had gotten a new apartment.
And the bag of money...
was Iceberg's money in the first place.
The money he got from all those women.
That's a cold game.
That's the motherfucking
capitalist manifesto,
and that's why I went to South Africa.
So now we got us a little secret, bitch.
And "cc" a central bank
Loose change body slamming
Big money tanks
We tell God thanks
Ya'll tellin' us that God don't rank
That's why your breath stank, yuck!
Lay off the bacon and the smokes
Quit laying off the good working folks
Quit the hoax
And lay off the corny color jokes
Corn chili to populate
A color is woke
Ya big dope, yuck!
Keep 'em out your face
Keep 'em in your prayers
Either that
Or keep 'em in the crosshairs
Better still
Keep an even dose of each
'Cause until you get justice
You won't get peace
Peace, peace, peace, peace, peace
The gunshot that said ba-da-da-day
Ba-da-da-da-da-day
Ba-da-da-da-da-da-day, hey!
They shout peace, peace, peace
They shout peace, peace, peace
The firefight lit, ba-da-da-day
Ba-da-da-da-da-day
Ba-da-da-da-da-da-day, hey!
Rumors and rumors and rumors of war
Can I get better?
Don't know what that's for
And more
Rumors and rumors and rumors of war
Killers just killing
Don't know what they kill for
And more
Rumors and rumors and rumors of war
Can I get better?
Don't know what that's for
And more
Rumors and rumors and rumors of war
War
Revelations
Don't stop. Keep on.
I'm rich, beyotch!
the funniest thing to say is mean.
You know what I mean?
It's a tough position to be in.
So I say a lot of mean things,
but you guys got to remember.
I'm not saying it to be mean.
I'm saying it because it's funny.
And everything's funny
till it happens to you.
Revelation
Don't stop. Keep on...
Sunshine
Ecstatic
Flaco
Boogieman
I'm standing in the sun
Getting black as I want
You playing good D
And that ain't backing me up
Sky woke a baby
Ain't no jackin' my hem
I got a whole lot to say
So I ain't talking to them
I hear knees dropping
I turn it up louder
Black freedom, black genius
Black power
Black ink
For printing the black dollar
Until I CIA
I say, "Now what?"
Phew.
Well, it's the last show.
Here we are.
Los Angeles.
The world capital of...
rape and dick breath.
The fuck has been going on out here?
Keeps getting worse.
Just when you think it can't get worse,
they got Charlie Rose today.
It's going to be a quiet morning
on the news tomorrow.
Charlie Rose. Who's next?
Captain Kangaroo?
Everybody is raping like hotcakes.
I, for one, am starting to get worried.
You know, I've been
in show business 30 years.
I had no idea how much danger I was in.
It's really some scary shit.
I gotta tell you.
Harvey Weinstein's probably
the first person that I ever
looked at a photograph of
and was like,
"Yeah, he rapes."
I'm not sure this motherfucker
has a choice.
Not a handsome man.
A lot of meat and extra skin on his face.
Yeah, he's ugly. You know, the sad part is
he's done so well in life,
he probably doesn't know he's ugly.
You know, when you're good-looking,
everybody will tell you.
"Oh, you look wonderful,
you're so great looking."
But when you're ugly.
You gotta figure that shit out
for yourself.
It's a lot of putting clues together,
really is.
"Why am I not getting in the club?
I got all the right shit on."
If it was Brad Pitt doing that shit,
you wouldn't have heard a peep.
Girl would've just come back down like,
"I got the part."
Yuck!
Good one.
Yet, and yet, it is important
that I acknowledge ladies.
You are absolutely right.
There you go.
And we gotta all be mindful of that, guys,
because...
this could have happened to any of us.
It could of happened to me.
I can see that.
I see myself showing up, "Hi, I'm here
for my three a.m. with Mr. Weinstein."
"Hey, Harvey, I got your text.
I'm here to talk about the script."
"Seems like it's going to be hard to read
in candlelight, but I guess I could try."
Sound like a fucking nightmare.
Could you imagine that shit? Could you imagine you was
in a business meeting and a motherfucker
pulled their dick out?
In the middle of the meeting?
I'd be like, "Yo!
Yo, my man, that is the most
unprofessional shitI've ever seen.
In all my days."
"Just let me finish, Dave Chappelle."
"I'll put you in all three
Lord of the Rings."
"Hurry up, nigga.
I have other meetings, you know."
"I have a 4:30 a.m.
at Brett Ratner's house, and uh..."
"I believe it's a wardrobe fitting."
Wow.
I mean, it is really bad out here,
isn't it?
Kevin Spacey is out here,
grabbing men by the pussy.
I didn't even know that was possible.
Jesus Christ.
He got the guy
from Star Trek: The Next Generation.
That's who he-- that's who he got.
The last time. It sounded like
he was more than that, but...
that's who-- that's who set it off.
He was 14-years-old. And Kevin Spacey
accosted him at a party,
which I gotta say, by the way,
just for the record,
I went to a lot of parties in my day.
Never been to a good one
that had 14-year-old boys in it.
Not even when I was 13,
you know what I mean.
Who was the kicker with a bunch
of Hubba Bubba chewing niggas like...
"I'm having a good time, nigga."
Yuck.
Ironically,
the kid grew up to be gay anyway.
Which means...
Kevin Spacey can sniff that shit out
like a truffle pig.
"Yeah, he's one of me."
And not to victim blame,
but it seems like the kind of situation
that a gay 14-year-old
would get himself into.
I know I didn't say that right,
but it's true, nigga, like...
You know why I said that though?
'Cause I went to an arts high school.
And, like, all them niggas was gay, man.
Like, in a high school,
all them dudes was gay.
And them gay dudes is way more mature
than the rest of us.
And we didn't know why,
we just knew they was mature.
Ever seen a gay dude at lunch?
Perfect posture, they just sitting there.
Eating responsibly.
Then they take that thermos out.
You be like, "What the fuck is that?"
"Is this nigga drinking wine with lunch?"
We didn't know what it was.
Because we were young boys just trying
to figure out who we were.
And we didn't realize these gay dudes
were fighting
to be who they knew they already were.
Some impressive shit.
They were fearless, the gay kids.
Fucking fearless.
I've never seen a scared gay dude
in my life.
What kind of man has no fear?
You could be tied up
in a hostage situation with a gay dude,
and them niggas still be like,
"I'm thirsty."
"Shh.
Shh!"
"I'm thirsty, David.
I need something to drink."
"Shh."
"Well, then shoot me.
I would rather die of a bullet
than dehydration.
Nigga, I am thirsty. I need some water."
All jokes aside,
Kevin Spacey shouldn't have done that shit
to that kid.
He was 14-years-old
and was forced
to carry a grown man's secret.
For 30 years.
Jesus Christ, he must have been busting
at the seams with that one.
The saddest part is, if he were able
to carry that secret for six more months,
I would get to know
how House of Cards ends.
Yep, ladies and gentlemen,
these are dark...
dark, dark times.
New York Times said that Louis CK
jizzed on his own stomach.
Now, I've busted a lot of nuts in my day.
None of them were newsworthy.
Shit was really gross. 'Cause they didn't
just say it like I said it.
They didn't just say,
"Jizz on the stomach."
They said it in that fucking
Pulitzer prize-winning style
that the New York Times has.
It was very descriptive,
like, you know what I mean?
"Louis CK's semen shot out
like a volcano ofmisogyny,
slowly drizzling down like lava,
covering his freckled penis
as it slowly dripped
to a fiery crown of red hair."
Like, Jesus Christ, I'm trying to eat some
huevos rancheros,and this nigga is...
And you know the tough part of being
a comedian is knowing the motherfuckers.
Everybody comes up to me like,
"Did you know?
Did you know what Louis was doing?"
"No, bitch. I did not know."
The fuck you think we talk about
at the comedy club?
"Hey, how was the weekend?"
"Great, man.
I was just jerking off in faces
and cumming on my own stomach,
having a good time.
You know how this business is."
No, I didn't know.
They act like we sit around like Grease.
Tell me more, tell me more
Did she put up a fight?
Sorry, I don't know the choreography,
but you get the point.
You get the point.
Shit was intense.
But Louis was like the turning point.
I mean, you know, all these allegations
are terrible.
Louis's was the only--
I shouldn't say this but fuck it,
his allegation was the only one
that made me like laugh.
Well, if you think about it...
Because all his friends are reading it
and he's jerking off
and he's surprising people.
He's surprising them, he's jerking off.
I just picture all the comics in comedy
just reading that like, "What?"
It's terrible. I know, it's terrible.
I'm sorry, ladies.
You're right. You are right.
But at the same time, I mean,
you know what I mean. I don't know.
Jesus Christ, they took everything
from Louis. That was like...
I don't know, it might be
disproportionate. I can't tell.
I can't tell. This is like
where it's hard to bea man.
One lady said, "Louis CK masturbated
in front of me,
ruined my comedy dreams."
Word?
Well, then I dare say, Madam, you may have never had a dream.
Come on, man. That's a brittle spirit.
That is a brittle-ass spirit.
That shit is too much.
This is a grown-ass woman.
You know what this shit is like?
It's likeCOINTELPRO.
You know what that is?
It's the programming the FBI had
on J. Edgar Hoover.
In this program,
one of the many things they did
was they would track
the sexual habits of anyone
they considered an enemy of the state.
It's a loop button. That's why they've got
all these fucking sex tapes
with Martin Luther King fucking bitches.
But lucky for us, he actually had a dream.
You think if Louis CK jerked off
in front of Dr. King, he'd be like,
"I can't continue this movement.
I'm sorry, but the freedom
of black people must be stopped.
I didn't know this nigga was going to pull
this dick out and jerk off like this.
I just thought we were gonna get
a couple drinks and chill."
Show business is just harder than that.
Them women sounding like...
I hate to say it, y'all, they sound weak.
I know it sounds fucked up.
I'm not supposed to say that,
but one of these ladies was like,
"Louis CK was masturbating
while I was on the phone with him."
Bitch, you don't know how
to hang up a phone?
How the fuck are you going to survive
in show business
if this is an actual obstacle
to your dreams?
I know Louis is wrong, man.
I'm just saying, I'm held to a higher
standard of accountability
than these women are.
Don't forget who I am.
Don't forget what I am.
I am a black dude.
And don't ever forget how I got here.
My ancestors were kidnapped.
I don't even know where the fuck I'm from.
They were put on the bottom of boats.
They sailed them across the Atlantic.
Many of them died.
Only the strongest survived.
And once they got here,
they beat the humanity out of my people.
They turned us into beasts of burdens.
They made us do their work,
and the irony is, hundreds of years later
they're calling us lazy.
We fought in the Civil War.
We damn near freed ourselves.
Then, with Reconstruction,
black people did great.
My great-grandfather
was a very wealthy man.
But then the Black Codes came,
Jim Crow came, and it was a hundred years
of unspeakable oppression again.
Lynchings, all kinds of terroristic acts
to keep us in the margins of society.
Yet, we still fought.
And Dr. King was born.
And then, things got better.
Twenty years
after Dr. King was assassinated,
Michael Jackson was moonwalking
on television.
Something, something, something.
Barack Obama.
Donald Trump and...
Now here we all are.
400-year nightmare.
Took us 400 years
to figure out as a people
that white people's weakness
the whole time
was kneeling during the national anthem.
That's a brittle spirit.
That's right, nigga.
On the rockets red glare...
"What are you doing, nigga? Stand up!"
The vice president of the United States
got involved. Mike Pence got involved.
He went to the game himself.
"These niggers will have to stand
when they see me."
And all the football players looked up
in the stands and saw Mike Pence.
"Is that Mike Pence?
Come on, y'all. Wu Tang bow."
Foiled.
Brittle spirit.
I could kill every white person in America
at one time. Know how I'd do it?
I would just wait for the Super Bowl.
Right when they sang the national anthem,
I'd have OJ Simpson walk
to the 50-yard line
with them bad knees.
"Is that OJ Simpson on the field?
What the hell's he doing here?"
"Oh, I know what he's gonna do.
Stop him!"
You gotta man the fuck up, yo.
I don't mean to be disrespectful, because
I know you're upset with what I said.
But, you know, I know you're--
I know you're right.
But come on, baby, it's me.
I was right once, remember that?
Does anybody remember when I was missing
from show business for 12 years?
Remember when I had
this really popular show and I quit?
I remember I walked away
from $50 million.
A lot harder than walking away
from Louis' freckled dick.
I didn't know that I'd ever work again.
And yet, here I am tonight.
Did my dream die? No.
I remember that shit.
You don't remember that,
when I quit my shit?
On the way out the door I said,
"Something's wrong in Hollywood."
I believe they said I smoked crack.
That's what I remember.
I remember they called me crazy.
So really, you know, you're right, ladies.
Congratulations.
Enjoy it.
And they're coming for you, bitches.
They're coming for you.
One person that's uncomfortable--
Know who's the most uncomfortable
motherfucker in the room?
The nigga that's right.
I was right at an orgy once.
Nobody fucked me.
I was just walking around like Tom Cruise
at the movies, just looking.
And ruined the whole orgy by accident.
It's easier to ruin an orgy
than you think.
All you gotta do is wait for it
to get kind of quiet and then go, "Eww."
And I feel bad.
But I just feel like
this is all happening for a reason.
And, ladies, I want you to win this fight.
Ten years ago I might have been scared,
but, you know, I got a daughter now.
So if you win, she wins.
So I'm rooting for you.
And I agree with you.
At least, ideologically, I do.
I don't know if the--
I don't know if you're doing it right,
but I mean, who am I to say?
I don't think you're wrong.
I just think that... You can't make a lasting peace this way.
You got all the bad guys scared.
And that's good,
but the minute they're not scared anymore,
it will get worse than it was before.
Fear does not make lasting peace.
Ask black people.
And that's what it is.
What this city really needs...
Without irony, I'll say this.
The cure for LA is in South Africa.
You motherfuckers need truth
and reconciliation with one another.
Because the end of apartheid
should have been a fucking bloodbath
by any metric in human history,
and it wasn't.
The only reason it wasn't
is because Desmond Tutu
and Mandela and all these guys
figured out
that if a system is corrupt,
then the people who adhere to the system
and are incentivized by that system
are not criminals.
They are victims,
and the system itself must be tried,
but because of how systems work
is so compartmentalized
as far as information,
the only way
we can figure out what the system is
is if everybody says what they did.
Tell him how you participated.
Because men want to help,
they're just scared.
Ben Affleck tried to help. "What happened
to these ladies is disgusting."
"Oh, nigga, you grabbed a titty in '95."
"All right, fellas, I'm out."
"Fuck that, I ain't helping."
I just want to help.
I want to be a good guy.
Like, I can't even say the word
"me too" anymore.
A nigga was like,
"Dave, I'm going to the comedy club."
I was like,
"I am also going to the comedy club."
And I didn't even know it was happening,
but I guess I became like a feminist
in the last three weeks
because I can't watch porn the same.
Like, I watch it sometimes,
but I can't-- I can't click
on these motherfucking thumbnails,
not with those titles.
"Guy crams young girl in the ass
with hard rod."
I can't click on that.
Come on, nigga.
Give me something I can click on.
"Dude gets sucked off by a midget."
"Little person!" I say to myself.
Takes me hours to find one clip.
"What the hell is this?
Marginally groomed feminist
enjoys consensual sex with...
vaguely homosexual guy whose penis
is the same color as mine."
Click.
A lot of black dudes haven't been getting
"me too-ed." I don't want to jinx myself.
You know why, though?
Obviously, black women
go through the same thing, right?
The reason is because black women
from slavery
won't tell on us.
Because they know
that no matter how bad we black dudes are,
white dudes are very mean.
They're scared to see us get punished.
My wife is Asian. She'd tell on me
in a goddamn second.
Ain't no fucking up
in the Chappelle household.
The wildest shit about it
is I live in Trump country.
I live amongst the tiki torch whites.
Poor white people.
And I'm rich.
If it's ever pitchfork time,
nigga, I'm in a lot of trouble.
And nobody in my family believes me.
I've been trying to tell the kids,
"We gotta run these drills."
They're like,
"We don't wanna run your stupid drills."
"Too bad, son. You have to.
If tiki torch whites come outside,
what are you guys supposed to do?"
"Come on, Dad."
"What are you guys supposed to do?"
"Squint our eyes and stand next to Mom."
"That's right."
"And what are you gonna bring me?"
"Your gun and your groundskeeper uniform."
"That's right."
"I'll go outside and see what they want."
It is wild, bro. Where you from, man?
Hmm?
Where you from?
-New York.
Brooklyn.
You are from Brooklyn, aren't you?
You look like you can rob somebody
with a hammer.
Brooklyn niggas rob you
with shit they find around the house.
"I just got stabbed with a toothbrush.
This nigga must be from Brooklyn."
I'm fucking around.
Yeah, man. Well, you ladies were right.
Be honest with you,
your lives look terrifying to me.
They do. Man, I know nothing
about being a woman, but I know fear.
Yo, I used to live in New York
when I was 17.
I couldn't even pay my bills.
You know what I did to make money?
I used to do shows for drug dealers
that wanted to clean their money up.
One time I did a real good set,
and these motherfuckers
called me in the back room.
They gave me $25,000 in cash.
I was probably 18, 19 years old.
I was scared.
I thanked them profusely,
I put that money in my backpack,
I jumped on the subway and started heading
towards Brooklyn at one in the morning.
Never been that terrified in my life.
Because I'd never in my life had something
that somebody else would want.
I thought to myself, "Jesus Christ,
if these motherfuckers knew
how much money I had in this backpack,
they'd kill me for it."
Then I thought, "Holy shit.
What if I had a pussy on me all the time?"
That's what women are dealing with.
I'm going to tell you right now.
It's real talk.
If them same drug dealers gave me a pussy and said, "Put this in your backpack
and take it to Brooklyn,"
I'd be like, "Nigga, I can't accept this."
I empathize, man, you know.
Everybody gets mad
because I say these jokes,
but you gotta understand
that this is the best time to say them.
More now than ever, and I know
there's some comedians in the back.
Motherfucker, you have a responsibility
to speak recklessly.
Otherwise my kids may never know
what reckless talk sounds like.
The joys of being wrong.
I didn't come here to be right,
I just came here to fuck around.
It's hot in here suddenly, isn't it?
Wonder where that heat came from.
I wonder what happened to me.
Where did I go for 12 years
if I wasn't raped?
Maybe there's something else going on.
Maybe these rapes aren't even the worst
of it. Wouldn't that be something?
Wouldn't that be something?
You can go to the bathroom, Brooklyn,
you don't need to hear this shit.
You see that motherfucker right there?
He's under an enormous amount of pressure.
He is. Just being big and black
with that hairdo, nigga,
these motherfuckers
are a suspect for everything.
Except white collar crime.
Sometimes I want to talk about where
I went, but y'all don't want to know.
I was gone for a long time, nigga.
I was in the upside down.
Scary being a white dude now, isn't it?
A little bit, no?
Well, you're not going to get "me too-ed."
You know what I mean.
It's funny for a black dude to see
white people go through this
because this is how it always is for us.
All my heroes were either murdered
by the government or...
are registered sex offenders.
Sad. I know, man.
We've already been through it.
Like Michael Jackson.
Remember when they said all that shit?
They neverproved anything
till his dying day.
But they said that he did
some very heinous things.
And one time I watched
a documentary about it.
They were talking all this shit
Michael Jackson allegedly did,
and as they were saying
all these allegations,
they started showing pictures
of his home-- Neverland Ranch.
You've ever seen Michael Jackson's house
on television?
Um...
Well, the short of it is
there's a lot of things for kids to do
at that place.
And I saw the whole thing.
Exotic animals and Ferris wheels
and merry-go-rounds and shit.
And the more they showed it,
the more certain I was that...
I don't think Michael Jackson
did any of those things they said he did.
His house didn't look sexual.
It looked like...
he was flossing with those motherfuckers.
Didn't look like he's trying to fuck kids,
looked like he's trying to impress 'em.
Like, this nigga's Jay-Z for kids.
He's just walking through his house.
"This is my cotton candy machine.
It makes three tons of cotton candy a day.
You can have all the cotton candy
you want.
This closet is filled with nothing
but custom-made karate slippers.
Isn't that cool?
Shall I have my monkey
bring us more cupcakes?
Hey, guys, let's watch a movie.
What movie do you want to see?
Home Alone?
No, don't touch the DVD player.
Macaulay Culkin's here, he can act it out.
Come on, Macaulay.
Act out Home Alone for my guest."
And the kids were like,
"Man, you are all right, mister.
This is fantastic, man.
We had you all wrong."
"Hmm?
All wrong I don't understand.
What do you mean?"
"Huh? Oh, well, you know, man.
We thought it was gonna be the usual.
You were gonna have uscome over
and give some wine cooler and...
you know, suck our dicks."
"What
Ooh, you faggot ass kids!
Nobody trying to suck your dick, nigga.
I was trying to show you a better life.
Bubbles. Get these kids
the fuck out of my house.
You're just like everyone else."
Hollywood is no place
for moral absolutism.
You know what I mean?
We must never forget
that R. Kelly peed on a 15-year-old girl.
And he also wrote "I Believe I Can Fly."
Same guy, same lifetime.
If I showed you that video
of him peeing on that girl,
and scored it to "I Believe I Can Fly,"
you'd be torn.
I used to think that I could not go on
You wouldn't know how to feel.
If I can see it
It's okay, my career ended
many years ago.
Order.
I know, I'm terrible, I'm terrible.
I'm sorry, everybody. I'm sorry.
Wanna know what happened to me?
Yes.
Nah.
It's tempting, but I don't want
to talk about it.
Maybe at the end.
When I run out of things to talk about.
Actually, I'm almost there.
I'm just trying to tell you what happened
to me was not--
I just didn't have a good go of it.
I don't know what you guys think happens
when you quit a successful show.
I'll tell you what doesn't happen.
They don't go,
"Hey, good luck
with your future endeavors."
That's not what happens.
It was cold out there.
For real, I had to watch it
all go down without me.
I had to watch all those people
do my show.
Key & Peele and Amy Schumer and...
Mind of Mencia. I'm not gonna say
they were doing my show.
I'm just saying they were awfully similar.
I was mad.
People would come up to me on the street,
"Yo, nigga."
Most people thought I was crazy,
but sometimes people come,
"Yo, nigga, you did the right thing, man.
You my hero."
Nigga, I don't want to be your hero.
I want to be rich.
Never choose to be a hero,
'cause heroes die uncomfortable deaths.
All I wanted to be was Paul Revere.
I just needed one heroic moment,
you understand?
"Paul Revere's Ride" was only one night.
And then 40 years of him being like,
"Hey, y'all, remember that time
everybody was asleep, and I was up,
and the British was coming?
Boy, it's a good thing I was awake, nigga,
everybody be dead.
Psh."
That's why I want to start a GoFundMe
for Colin Kaepernick.
I do, man. I'm fascinated with him.
I want to make sure he never
has to play football again.
He can if he wants to.
I just don't want to have to.
'Cause why the fuck not?
I know he's rich and people'd be like,
"I'm not giving a GoFundMe to rich dude."
But you should.
You should because
that motherfucker's life was going great.
He's so light skinned,
he didn't have to say he was black.
And yet,
he took a knee during that anthem for us.
Thought about us
when things were going good,
when his belly was full, when he was--
He didn't think about his livelihood
or any of that,
and they took his livelihood away
from him.
Like, man, that shouldn't be
the way it is.
Every fucking person that takes a stand
for somebody else always gets beat down.
And we watch.
Over and over and over again,
we watch it.
We should pay those motherfuckers
for blowing the whistle,
because they make our lives better,
and we could change the narrative.
We could make one motherfucker
have a good outcome
for doing the right thing
and that would make another motherfucker
brave enough to do the right thing.
And if you did that,
the niggas like Harvey Weinstein
wouldn't rape for 40 years
because a bitch want a stupid ass part.
We should take care of each other.
Wouldn't it be nice to be like,
"Remember that time he was gonna kill
Jesus but then he got all that money?"
Real talk, man.
It's not a racial thing.
It's about us making our society better.
It's about like even these women
that are coming forward,
and everyone says they're brave,
and many of them are.
And a few of them-- a few of them
sucked the dick and got buyer's remorse.
You know, that's a huge omission
from this narrative.
This wouldn't have gone this far
if some women weren't willing to do it.
You can't ask every woman
to hold the line.
Some women can carry things
heavier than others.
So we should fight for one another.
We should forgive the ones of us
that are weaker
and support the ones of us
that are stronger.
And then we can beat the thing.
If you guys keep going after individuals,
the system is going to stay intact.
You have to have men on your side.
And I'm telling you right now,
you're gonna have
a lot of imperfect allies.
I'll tell you what happened,
but I can't say it directly.
There's a book
to me that encapsulates
my entire experience.
Before I left the show.
And the book is called Pimp.
It's written by a guy named Iceberg Slim.
Yeah, bring it up here.
This is Matthew.
Matthew's from France. He's white.
And yet, he has an original copy
of this book
written by a black American
who was a pimp in the '40s.
Iceberg Slim.
His real name was Robert Beck.
He got the name Iceberg
because he was in a bar in Chicago,
and there was a shootout in the bar,
and a bullet went through
this nigga's hat,
and he still finished his drink.
Pimps love shit like that.
They said, "Man, you're ice cold."
And he said, "I like that."
And it stuck.
This book is so heavy in the front
and has a glossary of pimp terms,
because the ideas are so foreign
to the American ears.
For instance,
do you know what the phrase
"mileage on a ho" means?
Of course you don't.
Mileage on a ho is a very wild concept.
It means that pimps understand
there's a finite amount of bad shit
a person can do
before they lose their fucking mind.
And a good pimp can look at a woman
that he's never seen before and call it.
She's good for 500 fucks.
That's her mileage.
Anything over that,
that bitch is gonna spill.
They do it to you.
Why the fuck you think most of us work
from nine to five?
'Cause nine to six might kill a bitch.
Iceberg Slim was the one that broke down
what a bottom bitch was.
Does anyone know what a bottom bitch is?
Anyone?
What's a bottom bitch, sir?
It's your, uh-- it's your prostitute
that's the best out of all of 'em,
that bring in the most money.
That's right. That's exactly right.
Are you black?
That's right. A bottom bitch
is a pimp's number one ho.
She's even a bitch that helps him
keep the other bitches in line.
I will repeat.
She's even the bitch that helps him
keep the other bitches in line.
If the pimp was McDonald's,
then the bottom bitch is his French fries.
The rest of them bitches
like fish sandwiches
and cherry pies and shit like that.
Iceberg Slim breaks down some
of the coldest capitalist concepts
I've ever heard in my life.
He describes in detail
how these men break women
so that they will give them the money
that they make with their own bodies.
There's a story in here so cold,
it makes me shudder to think about it.
Iceberg Slim is trying to control
the woman that he finds uncontrollable.
So he asks an older pimp
how he can rein her in.
And the older pimp says,
"Oh, that's easy, Iceberg.
All you have to do
is beat that bitch with a coat hanger.
And then run her a bath.
And give her some pills.
She'll be so grateful that you fixed her,
that she'll forget
you were the motherfucker
that beat her in the first place."
That's some cold shit.
Now.
At the end of this book,
Iceberg Slim tells a story.
It's kind of the crescendo of the book.
And in the story,
Iceberg Slim's bottom bitch is
at the end of her mileage.
If she was good for 500 fucks,
she was at for 498.
She was bubbling, you could see it.
She was going crazy.
She started saying all kinds of shit.
"I always wanted to be in the circus."
Circus? This bitch is losing it.
"I can juggle, too, you know?"
Juggle?
He had to let her go.
It was hard to let a bottom bitch go,
and he wasn't ready to let her go
because his organization
couldn't handle losing her.
But she didn't know that.
She didn't know how important she was.
So what he did was,
he called her to ignite her.
He said, "Look, bitch,
you and I got to part ways."
She said, "Fine, motherfucker,
I don't need you anyway,
because I know somebody
at Ringling Brothers."
He was like, "All right, whatever.
I got one last trick for you.
It's a big money trick.
You do this for me,
you get paid, I get paid,
and we go our separate ways."
She said, "Fine, motherfucker,
what do you want me to do?"
He said, "Okay, there's a guy
in that hotel across the street.
He's waiting for you in room number seven.
I want you to go over there and fuck him.
But before you do,
I need to put some of this stuff
in his drink.
And then he's gonna fall asleep.
When he does, his briefcase on his bed,
bring the briefcase to me.
That's the trick, bitch.
Can you handle it?"
She said, "Fuck yeah, I can.
I can't wait to get rid of you."
And then she ran outside,
jumped on a unicycle
and peddled across the street.
And Iceberg watched her.
He's like, "Man, she's pretty good."
"If I never jerked off in her face, maybe
she would've been in the circus now."
And she runs up the motel steps
and disappears in room number seven.
She's gone for a real long time.
Real long time. So long, in fact,
that Iceberg got a little worried.
But then, suddenly, she came back.
He says, "Where's the briefcase?"
She said, "I didn't get it, Daddy."
"What do you mean you didn't?
What's wrong with you?"
She said, "I did everything you said,
but that man didn't look right.
Something wrong, Daddy."
"What do you mean?
Did you put that stuff in his drink?"
"I did everything you said, Daddy.
I put all of it in his drink."
He said, "Wait a minute, bitch,
you put all of it in his drink?"
Now he had to see for himself.
So the two of them go to the motel,
and they go into room number seven.
And on the bed laying lifelessly
is the white man
that she was supposed to fuck. Iceberg said, "You right, bitch.
He don't look good.
What the fuck?"
So he called a friend of his
that was a doctor that was close by.
And the doctor came in,
gave the guy a thorough examination
and told them both what was obvious.
"Slim, this motherfucker is dead."
"Oh, God, Daddy. Oh, no.
Oh, no. We killed him!"
He said, "Calm down, bitch.
We didn't do anything.
You killed this motherfucker."
And then he reached on the bed
and he grabbed the briefcase.
He popped it open.
It was filled with money.
More than any of them had ever seen.
Iceberg took a little bit of the money
and gave it to the doctor,
and the doctor left discreetly.
"All right, bitch, let me think.
I can fix this for you.
I know somebody I can call.
But if I call him,
I'm gonna owe these motherfuckers
a big favor."
"Oh, God, Daddy, please.
I don't want to go to jail."
"Neither do I, bitch, so you shut up."
He picked up the phone.
She heard him mumbling
in the phone a little bit.
He hung up the phone,
and then she waspacing the room,
and he was just standing there cool,
and they were waiting and waiting,
and then suddenly,
a van pulled up downstairs.
Two guys get out with a carpet.
They walk upstairs, they roll that carpet
out on the floor,
they throw the body in the carpet.
They roll that motherfucker up
like a burrito, they pick that shit up,
and they throw it in the back of the van.
They come back up
and Iceberg opens the briefcase again
and gives them a little money.
He says, "I'll get in touch
with you guys later."
They say, "You're not going to get
in touch with us, we'll find you."
He said, "Whatever, nigga."
And they bounced.
"Oh, God, Daddy. Oh, God."
He says, "Relax, bitch. Listen.
We getting the fuck out of here.
You go downstairs and you get the car.
We gotta leave separately."
She went, she got the car.
Iceberg grabbed that briefcase,
waited a few minutes,
looked out the window,
and then he went down with her.
They both got in the car,
and they drove off.
She was a blubbering mess.
"Oh!
Oh, we did all this shit!"
He said, "I told you bitch.
We didn't do anything."
You killed the motherfucker,
and I cleaned him up,
and now we got us a secret. Okay?
I know I'm not going to tell, bitch,
is you?"
"Oh, no, I ain't gonna tell."
He said, "All right, baby, cool.
I'm gonna need you to stay with me
for a while till this shit cools down."
She goes, "Okay, okay.
Okay."
That's the game.
That's how the whole shit works, ladies.
You understand?
This bitch was at the end of her mileage.
She was at for 498, she ended up tricking
for Iceberg for another six months.
She must have turned
another 200 tricks for him.
Do you understand? That's some cold shit.
And the cold shit about it
is that the dead guy on the bed
wasn't even dead at all.
This motherfucker was just a friend
of Iceberg's acting like he's asleep.
The doctor wasn't a doctor.
He was a motherfucking butcher
that happened to have a white coat.
And the dudes who came in the moving van
clothes was dressed like movers
because they were movers.
Iceberg had gotten a new apartment.
And the bag of money...
was Iceberg's money in the first place.
The money he got from all those women.
That's a cold game.
That's the motherfucking
capitalist manifesto,
and that's why I went to South Africa.
So now we got us a little secret, bitch.
And "cc" a central bank
Loose change body slamming
Big money tanks
We tell God thanks
Ya'll tellin' us that God don't rank
That's why your breath stank, yuck!
Lay off the bacon and the smokes
Quit laying off the good working folks
Quit the hoax
And lay off the corny color jokes
Corn chili to populate
A color is woke
Ya big dope, yuck!
Keep 'em out your face
Keep 'em in your prayers
Either that
Or keep 'em in the crosshairs
Better still
Keep an even dose of each
'Cause until you get justice
You won't get peace
Peace, peace, peace, peace, peace
The gunshot that said ba-da-da-day
Ba-da-da-da-da-day
Ba-da-da-da-da-da-day, hey!
They shout peace, peace, peace
They shout peace, peace, peace
The firefight lit, ba-da-da-day
Ba-da-da-da-da-day
Ba-da-da-da-da-da-day, hey!
Rumors and rumors and rumors of war
Can I get better?
Don't know what that's for
And more
Rumors and rumors and rumors of war
Killers just killing
Don't know what they kill for
And more
Rumors and rumors and rumors of war
Can I get better?
Don't know what that's for
And more
Rumors and rumors and rumors of war
War
Revelations
Don't stop. Keep on.
I'm rich, beyotch!