All language subtitles for Chi-Raq 2015

This is an emergency.

This is an emergency.

Homicides in Chicago, Illinois,

have surpassed the death toll

of American
special forces in Iraq.

Over 400 school-aged kids
have been shot this year.

On the weekend
of July 4th, 2015,

American independence day,

55 people were shot and wounded

and 10 were murdered,

including a seven-year-old boy.

Where was their freedom?

Where was their right
to life, Liberty,

and the pursuit of happiness?

These overwhelming
numbers of homicides

are committed by
young black males

against young black males.

Heaven help us all.

All right, peace out.

- Cairo!
- What's up, what's up?

What's up, man?
You good? You good?

We good, we good. What up?

Whoa, whoa, whoa, back up.
Back the fuck up.

Back the fuck up. Come on, man.
Come on, son.

Why you want to do that?

Chi-raq! Chi-raq!

Chi-raq! Chi-raq!

Chi-raq! Chi-raq!
Chi-raq! Chi-raq!

In the year 411 bc...

that's before
baby Jesus, y'all...

the Greek aristophanes
penned a play

satirizing his day.

And in the style of his time,

'stophanes made
that shit rhyme.

Transplanted today,
we retain his verse

to show our love
for the universe.

But warning!
You gonna see some pain!

But that's only natural,
'cause it involves the gangs.

So before I unfreeze these gs,

like the stats
you heard before...

people, people, people,

we can't take too much more!

Chi-raq! Chi-raq! Chi-raq!

Chi-raq! Chi-raq!

Everybody make some noise!

Hey, all y'all.

Yeah!

Yeah!

- Yo, what's up?
- What up, my boy?

- T-money!
- Yeah!

I love you, baby.

On my soul, this is my city.

Rest in peace, cyclops.

- I'm sprung.
- Yup.

I told you! I told you!

Oh, shit, what
the fuck you doing?

Man, get the fuck
out of my way!

Don't shoot! That's my man!

- Back the fuck up!
- Oh, shit!

Back the fuck up!
Back the fuck up!

Tonight was mad hectic, yo.

Shit, I respect it.

My little nigga t-money
took that hit.

Better be glad it was just
a flesh wound and shit,

'cause when my gun go boom,

I make sure a trojan end up
in the next room and shit.

Spartans ain't never lacking.
We attacking in this bitch.

I swear to god, I emptied
out a whole extendo clip.

Ho-ass trojans wanna trip over
some text message bullshit?

Three dudes all shot up
behind some text messages?

No question.

You know I was scared
for you and me both.

Girl, you know
your nigga is invincible.

They want to kill me, them motherfuckers
better bring a Iram missile.

Fuck them niggas
from Troy town.

I've been waiting all night
to take your fine ass down.

You ready for daddy
to smash that cake?

Shit, I've got that long d.

I know your ass can't wait.

Freaky-deaky
all up in that butt.

Come on, girl,
let's bust this nut, mm!

It don't get no gooder.

Girl, you finer
than granulated sugar.

Guess I better press my luck.

You just like my credit,
bad as fuck.

We could've got killed.

I gotta look at that tonight?

Out of sight.

I got another pistol that's
gonna make everything a'ight.

Just make sure it's loaded.

You know what I like.

You outside, no fun.

And he inside getting some.

You feel? Spit your lick.

Come on, man. Spartans, yo.

No.

No music? No nothing?

Nothing but the beat
of the headboard bumping

when my third leg go thumping.

Slow down.

You gotta bring me the romance.

Then maybe, like biggie,

I give your ass
one more chance.

Okay, okay.

Well, like 'pac say,

I can't wait to get you home,

- get you all alone.
- Mm-hmm.

Get you home in my bedroom.

Maybe we could bone
and get it on.

Got a lot of thug in me.

I wanna put it in you.

Hey, goofy,
why do I stay with you?

Because you know chi-raq
will make you stammer

when I crack your back
with this spartan hammer.

Chi, bang it.

Oh, chi.

Oh, chi!

You smell something?

Yeah. S-e-x.

What's that? What's that?

What the fuck?

Oh, shit!

Fuck.

Come on, motherfucker!

Get out of here!

Burn, baby.

Please, baby.

Disco inferno.

Go, go, go!

Go, go! Trojans! Go!

- You dead, nigga!
- You missed me!

On my mama, you dead,
old-ass motherfucker!

Call the fire department!

Somebody call
the fire department!

What are you looking at?

Nothing.

Absolutely nothing!

- Morning, tootie!
- Hey, hey!

Hey, Lysistrata! What it do?

What's up, Spinna?

Wake up!

Hey, Dolmedes!

Welcome to chi-raq,

the land of pain,
misery, and strife.

Folks, our windy city
been filleted

with a king-size butcher knife.

Like a monster
from outer space,

the great state of Drillanois

has been hit by a murderous,
big-ass killeroid.

And that's real shit,

where the big moneymaker
is the black suit undertaker.

But don't pity our pain.

Might ain't always right,
ain't you heard?

And this coming
from a natural man.

Baby, you've come face-to-face

with the super bad
Mr. Dolmedes.

My black ass was on
the first box of wheaties.

I was raised up
in a pail of rusted nails,

ran buck naked through
golf ball-sized hail,

was weaned on thunderbird
from my mama's titty.

Kicked ass from coast to coast

till both shoe toes
were shitty.

Chewed up electric lines
and pissed out lightning bolts.

Hit Godzilla so hard,
it gave Mothra's daddy a jolt.

Sank the Titanic
with a frozen turd,

then won 10 Grammys
and didn't sing or rap

one goddamn motherfucking word.

Now, I told you about the signifying
monkey and rapped about shine,

but this here
tale of two cities

is one of a kind.

It all started with
a gorgeous nubian sister.

Baby so fine,
she made George Zimmerman

and Darren Wilson
wanna kiss her.

As tough as Coffy
and sexy as Foxy Brown.

Hell, Beyonc� Knowles herself
even had to bow down.

They call herLysistrata,

a woman like no other.

This chocolate brown sister

was finer than a motherfucker.

She could put fear
in a pit bull,

made Bruce Lee flee,
knocked out Frazier and Ali,

then ran money Mayweather
up a sycamore tree.

With a mind like Einstein

- and a truly...
- Yo, what's up, girl?

Luscious behind,

that gal put gap-goody hurting

on all mankind.

Drive-by. Spartans
and trojans beefing.

Little girl, Patti,
wrong place, wrong time.

Messed up.

Barbara, you see the shooter?

Behind the yellow tape.
Know what I'm saying?

Behind the yellow tape.

Oh, boy.

Somebody called me to tell me...

- ma'am, please.
- What happened?

- What's going on?
- Ma'am.

My baby. That's my baby.

Ma'am, please.

Is that my...

- Is that... what happened?
- Ma'am...

You have to go
down to the morgue

for identification, ma'am.

But that's my baby.

Is that my...

- Patti!
- You can't cross the line, ma'am.

Please.

Did y'all see something?

You ain't seen nothing?

Ain't nobody out here
seen nothing?

And I can't even get
to my own child!

- I'm sorry, ma'am.
- What happened? Don't touch me!

You don't even deserve
to look at my child's body

laying right there
on this ground!

None of you!

You gonna get
your day, Lysistrata.

You and your damn boyfriend.

You got what's coming.

I want you to look at her.

Look at her right there.

That's a seven... a little baby!

A baby!

A baby.

I can't take this no more.

Your daughter's in heaven.

Because it could
be you next time!

Will you be standing
around looking then?

This nothing has nowhere to go.

Welcome to my home.

Come on in. Come on.

Why don't you move
in with that boy of yours,

machine gun Kelly?

Wouldn't be safe.

I suppose he'll be gunning
for who set that fire.

Y'all make my tired ass tired.

There are children here
in Englewood.

Does that mean anything to you?

Running up the street,
shooting and killing.

Do you care at all?

- Maybe I should leave.
- No. Sit.

Stay.

You're gonna deal
with this today.

You don't have any family?

No, ma'am.

I'm an orphan.

My moms put me up
for adoption at birth.

I grew up moving from one
group home to another.

Hmm.

Lord help you, child.

Where's your flat-screen?

Malcolm X once said

the best way to hide
something from negroes

is to put it in a book.

Well, I can dig it, miss Helen.

You sure got mad books.

Books are my life.

My life for books.

You always live here?

No. I lived in cabrini-green
back when it was clean,

before they knocked it down.

Oh, a lot of black folk
got gentrified across town.

- Who's this?
- My daughter Pam.

- Let me guess. 10?
- That's right.

Fifth grade class picture.

Girl, come away
from that window.

- Hurry.
- It's chi-raq.

Oh, my god!

Chi-raq.

I hate that name.
It's not who we are.

Chicago always been
a straight up gangsta town.

We are not chi-raq.

So what you call
all these shootings?

Crime? Doing time?

It's not just about Chicago.

What about
Bodymore, Murderland?

Killa-delphia,
city of brotherly murder?

Bucktown... Brooklyn, New York.

So many people getting shot,
hospital's going broke.

I mean, you got to get
on the e-way.

People dying en route.

They can't even file a lawsuit.

I mean, there still ain't no trauma
centers here on the south side.

There was a time in the
summer when it got hot.

Your child could go outside
and play and not get shot.

- Oh, I don't remember that time.
- It existed.

I'm sorry, miss Helen, but
it's a war zone out here.

The us spends money
on the Iraqi people,

to train them, govern them,

help them build an economy...

billions and billions
in dollars.

The Afghan people, too.

They don't do economic development
like that here on the south side.

See, Americans like war.

They like guns.

- Fun and games.
- Fun and games?

Ask the parents at Sandy hook.

When they murder white babies
and things don't change,

saving black life
is way out of range.

I keep thinking about that
mother that lost her child.

You should.

- This boy you with.
- Chi-raq?

- What?
- That's what they call him.

Wait a minute, now. Hold on.

They call him chi-raq?

Yes, ma'am.

Lord, have mercy!

He's a rapper.

I mean, gonna be
big-time famous.

You really never heard of him?

I heard he was a leader
in this gang mess, girl.

Whoa, miss Helen, now, they
don't say "gang" anymore.

They say "organization."

What is his real name?

His government name?

Nah.

Demetrius.

Demetrius Dupree.

Demetrius Dupree. His father?

All chi's told me
is that he died in prison.

He's got a good heart
deep down inside.

I love him.

I can change chi.

Darling,

people change when
they decide to change.

You make it sound so easy.

All you can do is create
an environment for change.

Like an alcoholic,
you take away his booze.

You just try
taking away their guns.

All right, well,
what else do they love?

Uh... getting turnt up,
making money.

What else?

Um...

Yeah, well.

Mm-hmm.

Pick up your phone.

Google.

"Leymah Roberta Gbowee"

is a liberian peace activist

responsible for leading
a women's peace movement

that helped bring an end

"to the second
liberian civil war in 2003."

You go and do it.

Irene, your
daughter is another victim

to the senseless violence
here in Englewood

on the south side of Chicago.

What do you want
people to know?

- What can people do?
- You know...

These babies don't ask to be
caught up in the middle of this.

They don't.
If y'all know anything,

if you've seen anything,
heard anything,

please, do something.

Say something.

Where's your heart?

What's up, girlfriend?

You unhappy staying
at miss Helen's crib?

You know how old people live.

That ain't the thing, Rasheeda.

- I'm on fire.
- Burn, baby, burn.

We agreed to hook up,
make this plan.

Where the females at, huh?

Laid up with some man.

- Oh, no.
- Hell, no.

Hell, no!

- Marcy! Tee-tee!
- It was today?

Damn right it was today.

You know I was waiting
on a line from Jackson.

He's in Afghan seeing action.

Waiting on his call,
I went to the mall.

Little man wanted
some cap'n crunch.

He eat it for breakfast,
maybe lunch.

Get in the damn car.
Sorry, Eddie.

- Whose crib this be?
- Indigo.

Indigo?

Isn't that cyclops's
main squeeze?

Cyclops' bae?

Yo, I got on purple.

She a woman,
we all black women.

That's the matter
at hand, sista.

Yeah, yeah, I can dig
your sista app,

but make sure
they don't bust no caps.

- Can I help you?
- 'Sup, indigo?

You covergirl clean.

That figure
brick shithouse mean!

Mm-hmm, this about who
set your house on fire?

- What y'all tired strags want?
- Man, what y'all want?

Hey, man, chill with that shrill
before I whup your butt, slut!

Yo!

I got a kid with me,
y'all. Relax.

- Peace! Peace and hair grease!
- Calm down.

- Check your girl!
- Check her!

Check the ignorance.

- We all sistas here.
- Bitch, I ain't your sista.

This my running partner Dania and
my Ace boon coon hecuba. - What?

- And I know you know Kenya the rapper.
- Nah.

I ain't putting out fear, so
what y'all trying to steer?

God forbid cyclops find y'all
spartan tricks up in here.

Everybody here got a man in
the orange and purple colors,

banging and slanging,
fighting for the flag,

risking that long zip
of the cadaver bag.

- It's how we live.
- It's how we die.

You wanna lose
your man to a drive-by?

In a pine box 'fore he's 25?

- I lost my cousin.
- And I lost my little brother.

I lost my nephew.

My uncle got killed
two weeks ago,

and like always,
nobody saw nothing.

All to the bang-bang.

Bang, bang.

We've all lost people, too,
many a sister and brother.

Now, I'd like to see
cyclops and chi

put down that mess between
the trojans and the greeks,

but that day looks bleak.

What if we could
devise a method

to end the bloodshed?

Yo, count on me.
You need money?

I'll pawn all the gold
around my neck,

then get turnt up
till I'm a wreck.

Hey!

I am ready to split myself

up the middle, give you half.

I'm down for the cause, but how?

We force our men
to negotiate peace

by exercising
cocksure self-control

and total abstinence
from knocking the boots.

I never did like y'all trojan
chickenheads any goddamn way...

- oh, no!
- Yeah, you heard me!

- Get up out of here.
- Y'all kicking us out?

Get out of here. Shoot 'em up.

Bang, bang.

Please, please, just sit down.

We ain't gonna be that long.
Rasheeda, shut the fuck up.

Give me one more minute.

Hey, I got my son with me.

I gotta go.

Marcy, this has to do
with your son.

Just a minute ago,
you was ready

to split yourself
up the middle.

Go ahead, so y'all spartans
can get out of here.

I just saw a mother
weeping in the streets,

her baby's blood spilt.

Man, you really think something
like that could bring peace?

Y'all know the power
we have over them

withholding just a day.

- A week?
- You're right.

- Ooh.
- Imagine a month.

A year!

Oh, they gonna bring the peace!

Suppose... suppose
that the men just dump us.

If we all hold out,
who can they go to?

The thots.

Them hos over there!

Well, we will enlist them, too.

If we want our men alive,

we want our babies to thrive,

we gonna have to organize.

Repeat after me.

I will deny all rights

of access or entrance...

I will deny all rights

of access or entrance...

from every husband,

lover, or male acquaintance...

From every husband,

lover, or male acquaintance...

who comes to my
direction in erection.

Who comes to my
direction in erection.

Uh, come on. Say it!

- Come on.
- Girl, I can't...

- I can't do this. No!
- Come on!

If he should force me to lay
on that conjugal couch...

If he should force me to
lay on that conjugal couch...

I will refuse his stroke

and not give up
that nappy pouch.

I will refuse his stroke

and not give up
that nappy pouch.

No peace?

No pussy!

Ah!

The red wine has been drunk.

The plan is now struck.

Dolmedes must tell you fellas,

y'all about to get punked.

Lysistrata had them all
take a solemn oath.

Stop the murder madness

or there would be
no more pokes.

Some even thought
the shit was a hoax.

How could them females give up the
long dick and the downstroke?

This must be some bullshit!

Ain't no fucking way!

But y'all about to find out

these gals don't play.

No more poonani, nookie-pie,

beehive, or honeybun.

No coochie, no nappy dugout.

That's right. You gets none.

Say what?

To be so damn smart,

you know
you're tweaking, right?

You lame as hell,
playing games for real

with this wack-ass
panty strike,

and that's that shit
we don't like.

You wanna choose to be rude?

Bitches gonna be tight when
you make 'em lose they dudes.

I don't know who you think
you're trying to change.

I'm trojan through and through.

That's stronger
than any damn screw.

It's even bigger than you.

All you care about
is this tired gangsta game.

Well, it's lame!

You think you'll die with fame?

Negro, two days later,

no one will even
remember your name.

Your machismo
is really masochism.

That's why
I'm cutting off your jism.

As long as you love
the life more than a wife,

we strike.

Why you so frigid?

Why don't you let me
thaw you out

with this ice pick?

You know you can't resist
a chocolate lick.

Chill out.

Your next move
is your best move,

and it gonna be smoo...

fine. Remember that
little kiddie rhyme.

369, indigo drank wine.

Made the chicks walk
that no sex line.

But the line broke,
and them bitches choked.

AndLysistrata
and her former friends

got replaced
by some tighter pokes.

Bye.

- Be...
- Safe!

What's happening with
the jump-off, Bacchos?

We got the cheese.
Where the nachos?

Spartans trying to have
the club on lock, yo!

It's rough out here!

It's Saturday night.
We getting tight?

Not tonight.

Ain't no partying,
no dancing, no getting down.

- Why?
- Ain't a broad to be had.

Just a bunch of
hardheads going stag.

It's the same all over town.

Clubs is closing down.

Man, these womens
have vanished.

Even the hos is no-shows.

What the fuck is this, though?

What the hell?

I'll be goddamned.

What the...

shee...

Eee...

Eee... it.

All right, peep this.

I got 30 girls
stripping for me,

another five on loan,
and not one of them,

not one of them is answering
their goddamn phone.

This shit is wack.

Yeah, I mean,
at this time of the night,

the champagne room
would be full of life.

Young boys putting dollar bills

in the drawers
of all my pretty thrills.

Cyclops, we have
been struck by a plague

that will put that biblical
pestilence shit to shame.

And this famine only affects
the lower regions

where all you young trojans
do most of your thinking.

I mean, this is the male
side of the aisle.

If you can't squeeze it,
you at least wanna...

wanna... you know, tease it.

Oh, but... but...
but these hos have literally

shut down the penis power grid.

So my question to y'all

is what you
motherfuckers done did?

Huh?

The situation's out of control,

'cause I'm in front
of an empty stripper pole!

But you still got soul, so you
know your pole is... is gold.

Cyclops. Cyclops,
keep your eye on me.

Yo, we got you, Morris.
Don't worry about this, man.

I got this.
Know what I'm saying?

I got it between
my crosshairs, nah?

What you need is another eye.

There's not even
half an ass to look at.

One of these days,
man, you know,

you're gonna get tired of
them one-eye jokes and shit.

Sorry, man,
I'm a little uptight

because there ain't no pussy
in the club tonight.

Where's yours on standby?

I can't sell standby.

I need some active duty,
first-class, "va-Gina."

You need active duty... Booty?

Active duty... Booty.

I'm glad you can find
humor in this.

Sometimes that shit just come to me.
I don't even know how, man.

You know what, man?

I would like to have somebody
on that pole tonight.

Beast, pole, baby.

It's not that kind
of club, young man.

Hey, man, go and get
on the pole.

What kind of insubordination
is this shit?

- Oh, no, we got it, boss.
- You need all you can get, mo!

- Relax, I got this.
- Get yours, son.

- Yeah, do that shit.
- Do that spin, do that spin.

- Whoo!
- Yeah, that's right.

- Yeah!
- Oh.

Hey, yo, big Thelma,
where you going?

The us Virgin Islands,

a place my girls
ain't never seen.

Well, where your girls be at?

My bitches told me to go,

say they're honoring
the strike.

Say they don't care who likes.

- A ho strike?
- Shit, yeah.

Good thing I'm a dyke.

Can you believe this shit?

Yeah!

Glory!

We don't mourn
like other people!

Praise him! Praise him!

Can I get a "glory"?

Glory!

- Can I get an "amen"?
- Amen!

I'm gonna talk
about a life today.

An important life...

In our community.

A life...

That ends life.

The life...

Of a gun.

- Ah, yeah.
- Oh, mercy! Mercy.

- Oh.
- That's right!

This gun began
its professional career

when it was purchased
by tiny Tony from Chicago

at an Indiana gun show

using a fake Indiana ID

and bypassed all
of our strict gun laws.

Chicago gangs

buy the guns for big money...

Break it down.

- For their work...
- Mm-hmm.

In the underground economy.

Tell the truth!

That's right.

The underground economy exists

because banks
and lending institutions

rarely loan money
to poor people.

Is that right?

Right. Say it!

Their children, however,
admire the thug life.

But they do so from the
safety of suburban Chicago!

- That's right!
- Kenilworth, Wilmette, highland park.

No, no, no, no.

This gun wouldn't be
caught dead there.

This gun is
the principal player

in a reality TV
urban murder show

that can be seen every
night at 5:00 and 10:00,

every channel, on any news
show you wanna watch.

And that's when this gun...

Met our child Patti.

- Patti.
- Yeah! Yeah!

Patti is gone...

Because our politicians
are in the pocket

of the national
rifle association!

They have become
their mouthpieces

or silent co-conspirators!

Patti is gone...

Because of an economy
that has abandoned the poor.

Downtown they say
unemployment is 5.7%.

How's that sound?

Right here in auburn gresham,

unemployment is 21%!

And that doesn't even count
people who have given up hope

and stopped looking for work.

The per capita income
is $12,000!

42% of us live
below the poverty line.

30% don't have
a high school diploma.

What America
are they living in?

Yes!

We go from third-rate schools

to first-class
high-tech prisons.

Mass incarceration
is the new Jim crow!

Our Patti is gone

because gang members
are more concerned

with popping pills
and popping bottles,

more concerned
with what's on YouTube!

Say it, father Mike!

More concerned with ego,
street cred, and greed

than a human life.

Patti's gone because
guns have become

a part of America's wardrobe.

Preach, father Mike!

Where it is easier
to get a gun than a computer.

Sirens and gunshots

are our soundtrack.

Yellow police tape,
Teddy bears,

t-shirts, balloons...

these are the national memorials
of our neighborhoods.

And it doesn't look good.

Take your time!

Preach!

It didn't look good...

When the sky turned dark

and the sun refused to shine

and the earth began to quake

and they laid
Jesus's lifeless body

at the arms of mother Mary!

Yeah! Preach!

And I don't need to go
back to biblical times!

It didn't look good
in a Birmingham church

when four little girls
were blown apart by hate!

It didn't look good
when Medgar was laying

bleeding to death
in his driveway.

It didn't look good when Malcolm was
shot down on the audubon stage!

And it didn't look good
when Martin Luther King

stood on the balcony
of the Lorraine motel

outside room 306

and at 6:03 was taken from us!

And, no, it doesn't look good!

Not when Patti was lost
on a busy street

with folks going
to work and school,

with cars passing by!

How is it possible?

How is it possible

that not one witness
has come forward?

Not one!

How is it possible
that no one has the courage

and the conscience
to speak up for this family!

Somebody knows!

Somebody, help me!

Somebody!

Somebody knows!

Cynics say, "well, if I
snitch, I'll be killed, too."

First of all,
when a murderer walks free,

we are all in danger!

But if multiple folks
come forward,

multiple folks
who witnessed these murders,

there is no one target!

What makes someone a target
is not the shooter.

That's right!

What makes someone a target
is the community

that surrenders to fear...

Yes!

And becomes silent.

That's why we at St. Sabina

must put out a $5,000 reward

for information
leading to the arrest

of Patti's killer
or any killer!

Because we need to say
loud and clear,

"you cannot murder
our children!"

You cannot murder our children,

then go back to the crib,
turn on "sportscenter,"

eat a whopper and fries, and act
like nothing ever happened.

We will not allow this
self-inflicted genocide to continue.

We will not allow this
self-inflicted genocide to continue.

This is a disgrace!
This is a disgrace!

Patti lives! Patti lives!

And Patti will have justice!

- Do you have faith?
- Yes!

- Do you want justice?
- Yes!

Are you willing
to get up and walk?

- Yes!
- Get up!

Hope wins!

Peace wins!

- Goodness...
- Wins!

- Righteousness...
- Wins!

- Love!
- Wins!

- Love!
- Wins!

- Love!
- Wins!

All right, father Mike!

What up, what up?

Man, you got a lot of stuff
out here on this table.

You got everything going,
don't you?

Pssh.

Man, you got the Lane
and you're blowing?

That's too much, man.

Yeah, just trying to keep
my mind off that bullshit.

Man, I don't want you
to be fucked up like me, man.

Walk around being in a chair.

Can't move your legs.

Got to wear a motherfucking
undergarment.

Fucking shitting and pissing
on yourself for nothing.

Got to put
these damn braces on,

these motherfuckers, every day.

These are reminders.
And for what?

If I wanna throw the "s" up?

Man, you gotta...
we gotta wake up, man.

Look at me, man.

Fucking tired
of this shit, man.

Gave my whole life
to this shit,

and I ain't got
nothing in return.

This shit here,
this trojan-spartan shit,

man, we gotta... we gotta
slow this shit down, man.

My son got shot.
He in a wheelchair now.

Quadriplegic.

Cat just stood over him,
capped him.

14 times.

For what?

Man, this ain't living.
This ain't life.

Chi, we gotta do
something different, bro.

We gotta do
something different.

I don't wake up
every day to get high,

to cry, go to funerals.

Ain't you tired
of this shit, man?

I mean, don't you wanna
do something different?

At first, I thought
you were all insane.

But on further review,

as a man who's taken
a vow of celibacy,

I know the power
of the sexual appetite.

I know this fruit is ripe.

But understand, your ruse
won't bring a truce.

Well, what will bring peace?

How about a job?
Affordable housing.

A good education.
Purpose, hope.

There's a lot
of hate out there.

A lot of self-hate.
A lot of racial hate.

That Charleston massacre?

Murdered at a prayer meeting.

- Hate crimes.
- Assassinations.

Domestic terrorists.

South Kakalaki.

First to secede,
last to concede.

They built the citadel
to take on mother Emanuel.

It's the oldest
ame church in the south,

founded by
Denmark Vesey in 1822.

Their heritage is white
supremacy, through and through.

That evil young klansman
Dylann storm roof?

He's the proof.

Post-racial... poof.

Storm wants his country back.

- Storm ain't getting it.
- It ain't his!

Storm is from a way of hate,

and we may not
be able to relate.

Those murders came from
a lower Carolina state.

Historically speaking,
evil's in that boy's blood.

Well, now, the brothas
on the block?

They do the white man's
murderous bidding for him.

Now, that form of hate,
we can't translate.

It enunciates.

But I will exterminate
myself, my kind, me!

Us.

The question remains.

Can your plan save us from us?

Company, halt!

- About face!
- Ain't that your boy?

General king Kong?

He wishes.

That's why I quit.

You know, John
brown raided an armory

at Harper's ferry
when he freed the slaves.

Show me what you're made of.
Right here, right now!

Assume the position!

General king Kong?

I wan to enlist.

Young lady,

speak to one of our
recruiting sergeants.

No, general!

My bestie Rasheeda,
she served under you.

She told me, "get behind
that general king Kong."

Said you's
a commanding officer.

Young lady...

May I speak to you in private?

Dick, h.W.,

rice-a-roni, w.,

rummy.

No Clinton?

Where's president
Hussein Obama?

I'd rather have an African
lion in the white house,

than a lyin' African.

You're too funny, general.

Young lady, I'm about
to show you something

few people have seen.

This is one of the most important
artifacts of the civil war,

affectionately known
as whistling dick

because of the
terrifying sound it made

when it went off
and wreaked its deadly havoc.

Saved our rebs
time and time again.

What do you call this, general?

The rammer.

Let me show you how it works.

Oh! Oh!

Shove it in the hole like so.

Push it down real low,
as far as it will go.

Uh-huh.

And you pull it out real slow.

Look at you, general!

Oh!

Oh!

I'm always prepared.

Sucky sucky now.

Oh, you know what would get
me really alabamy hot?

What? What? Tell me.

- Hand to hand?
- Oh, no.

Watch you mount
old whistling dick.

- Ride it?
- Oh, yeah.

Yeah, like you old
general stonewall Jackson

coming to rescue little old
darkie me from those Yankees.

- It would turn you on?
- Yeah.

I'm not just whistling Dixie.

Oh! Whoo!

Here we go! Come on!

- Ride it.
- Yeah.

- Ride it. You like that?
- Yeah, come on.

Yeah!

Let that pretty black steel

ride up your pretty pelvis.

Son of a bitch, this is good.

This is good. Yeah!

- You like that?
- Now come here, you black stallion.

It's time to light this Cannon.

Oh, wait, wait, wait.
One more thing.

What?

Now this right here, general,

this'll really turn me on.

But I'm blind.

- I'm blind.
- Yes, you are.

Here, now give me those hands.

You want my fingertips?

What you gonna do with them?

I want all of you.
Oh, you like that?

Yeah, that's so sweet.

- Sweetie, come on.
- Feel that?

Now you mine now, general.

Yeah, here we go.

Yeah!

I'm your whistling dick.

I'm your little whistling dick.

Whistle.

Whistle like you want it, baby.

Now come here, you little
nappy-headed ho.

Come on, mama.

Bring it, my little burr head.

Come on.

Here we go.

Wait a minute.

What in tarnation is this?

This is an act of treason.

You a black nigra Isis.

Come on! Come on!

Move it! Move it! Move it!
Move it! Move it!

- Go! Go!
- Freeze!

Don't shoot! Don't shoot!

Please, don't shoot.
Don't shoot!

Move! Move!

Is this the police
or seal team two?

And you're surprised
there's derision?

If this was your neighborhood,
what would you do?

Look at all this weaponry.

Shit look like an invasion,
not a persuasion.

All this for some
unarmed women of color?

I think something got lost
in translation.

They say they come
to protect and serve,

but the real truth is
they get the chance,

they treat these girls like
Eric garner selling loosies.

Let's get truthy.

Cops and gangs,

black and brown folks
stuck in the middle.

Shit's on fire, y'all.

I can hear Nero's fiddle.

Can't trust the police.

Afraid of the gangs.

This whole motherfucking
thing is insane.

What happened to the
officer on the beat?

And this banger sure ain't
mama Nem's little treat.

First I wanna
thank you all for showing up.

We all know that enough
is enough and too much stinks,

so we need to come together
in agreement about this oath.

What oath?

Swearing off
the one-eyed monster.

What?

Miss Helen, as an attorney,
I know the trip.

I convict our youngsters
to this new slave ship.

If I do take the oath, how
will it sink that bloody boat?

Althea, it won't work.

You just like having your man
by the Jackie Robinsons.

Right, and that's why
sugar pie man don't stray.

I keeps that bone dry

and also keep myself
looking fly.

Oh, so that's why you wear
them too-tight numbers

and fishnets or Daisy Dukes.

Big old ripple up ass
hanging all out the shoot.

Oh, y'all wanna laugh?

It's funny? Little broke ass
destiny's child over here.

You wanna laugh? Don't
talk about my big ass.

We all got some bumps and bruises
and cigarette burns on asses.

- Speak for yourself.
- What about you and your man?

Old Duke wanna hit
that big butt,

you ain't gonna give it up?

Ole Duke and me is separated.

Girl, please.
You still wanna hit that.

Even if I did, which I don't,

I will not violate the oath.

Now, sisters, come on.
This isn't a joke.

We all have a stake in this fray.
You know mine.

So forget about
your personal needs.

I'll be damned
if another child bleeds.

Oh, Dr. miss aesop
has the floor.

A woman wise beyond her years.

Maybe she can help us
dry this river of tears.

As a pediatrician for 50 years,

I was dedicated
to preserving life.

God, nature, the higher power

put more nerves
in a man's thing

than he ever did in his brain.

Thus, the women
must save the babies.

Save the babies.

It's time to get that gate
of motherhood locked up.

- Lock it up.
- Lock it up.

- Lock it up.
- Lock it up.

- Lock it up.
- Lock it up.

- Lock it up! Lock it up!
- Hold up, hold up.

Hold the fuck up!

If I lose my man, I'm
gonna cut all of y'all.

Shit!

Fuck it.

Lock it up.

Knights of euphrates,
these females

think this is gonna
stop the gangs.

Ain't this a blip? Silly
rabbits on a stone-cold trip.

I told sugar pie
before I left the house,

Apollo ain't no goddamn mouse.

She don't want to give it up,

I'll find me some
brand-new fresh ass butt.

There's too much ass
for all that trash.

Hey, ain't y'all heard?

The phone sex women,
they honoring the strike.

And the porno
all closing the nookie.

I mean, not even
a fucking lookie.

Fellas, they shutting it all
down tighter than fish pussy.

And you know that shit
is waterproof.

Waterproof. Tight, tight.

What you gotta say, oedipus?

Well, I asked
my mommy last night

and she said
the women are right.

- Your mommy?
- Yes.

Skinny nigga, sometimes I think
you married to your damn mommy.

Well, I love my mother
and my mommy loves me.

Gentlemen, I am proud to say that I was
breast-fed till I was 12 years old.

Tmi.

I hear some straight
dude's been making

late-night appearances on "queer
sex for the straight guy."

Yeah, and the brothers
on the down low,

even they saying no blow.

Nigga, what did you say?

How I know that, I don't know.

Well, at my age,
I thought my missus

was just a pest.

But lord have mercy,
she's a sexual terrorist.

And who do we have to blame?

- Oprah?
- Women's lib?

Uppity ass women!

Let's give them frails

a dose of they own damn tail.

We'll let them
twilly tarts know

who makes them groan
and moan and hoot.

And bring home the damn loot.

So what we gonna do, ole Duke?

We took those flags once.

We can take 'em again.

Poindexter's old, unh,
but he can still go.

- You saying do it ourselves?
- That's the plan, Stan.

Unless you always wanna have
that in your greasy old hand.

Knights of euphrates, rise up.

Like the battles of the past,

we shall come together
to whup some female ass.

Let us not stand
for their flapping lips

nor their chronic
nagging bullshit.

- Are we mice or men?
- Men!

We shall redeem
the power of our breed

with one mighty thrust into the
misty mist and the dusky dusky.

- What makes a muskrat guard his musk?
- Courage!

- What makes the sphinx the seventh wonder?
- Courage!

- What makes the dawn come up like thunder?
- Courage!

What makes Venus
hottentot so hot?

What puts the dance
in the robot?

What we got
that they ain't got?

Courage?

Fuck, no. A dick. Blue balls.

Miss Helen, I see you out
here with all these ladies today.

What do you hope to accomplish?

Lysistrata's platform coincides

with the mayor's 10-point
plan to end gun violence.

Her demands are our demands.

Why do you think
your demands and your plan

will work better than what
the mayor has put forward?

Because we have one, and
it's to save our children.

We need to stop this
violence in the street.

He's distracted. He has many
things that he's concerned about.

We are concerned
about our babies

and we are talking to our men
in our homes in the bedroom.

I think they'll listen then.

I ain't in no gang.

You telling me you gonna
stop giving my girl

from giving me what I need
because your man

is the leader of the gang and he
out there shooting and killing?

Don't make sense.

I don't understand that. I
ain't a part of that party.

I'm old enough to know that I'm
supposed to do what I'm supposed to do.

She old enough to know she's supposed
to do what she's supposed to do.

Now, them young kids, they the
ones out here tripping like that.

No peace, no pussy.

Women, you need us.

Do your duty
and drop that Booty.

No peace, no pussy.
Negotiate and copulate.

Women, you need us.

Do your duty
and drop that Booty.

No peace, no pussy.
Negotiate and copulate.

Women, you need us. Do your
duty and drop that Booty.

No peace, no pussy.
Negotiate and copulate.

That's where they are.

We can bring a team here

all the way across
by the main underneath

and surprise them.

I wonder who sent him.

So what is this, chief?

At approximately 1500 hours,

75 women took possession
of the armory.

They had hostages,
they released them.

- Women did this?
- Black and brown women.

- Black and brown women?
- Just black and brown women.

- How many dead?
- Zero.

- Just wounded?
- Nada.

They packing
some big muscle, huh?

No, sir, they appear
to be unarmed.

- How many?
- Approximately 75, sir.

Are you telling me
that 75 black and brown women

took a United States
military armory unarmed?

Yes, sir.

"No peace, no pussy."

What the hell
is going on, riptide?

Don't let that foolishness
outside scare you.

The armory
is our chastity belt.

I will deny all rights

of access or entrance...

I will deny all rights
of access or entrance...

to every husband, lover,
or male acquaintance...

To every husband,
lover, or male acquaintance...

who comes to my direction
in erection.

Who comes to my
direction in erection.

If he should force me to lay
on that conjugal couch...

If he should force me to
lay on that conjugal couch...

I will refuse his stroke

and not give up
that nappy pouch.

I will refuse his stroke

and not give up
that nappy pouch.

I will not lift my house shoes
to touch thy thatch...

I will not lift my house
shoes to touch thy thatch...

or submit hangdog
and part with the snatch.

Or submit hangdog
and part with the snatch.

No peace, no pussy.

No peace, no pussy.

- Lock it up!
- Lock it up!

Lock it up! Lock it up!

Lock it up! Lock it up!
Lock it up!

Hello?

Jesus h. Christ.

- Mr. mayor.
- Hang on.

Everybody out there in the
world, take this, too.

You're part of this.
Take this vow.

Did you know this woman
used to work for my office?

No, I didn't know that,
your honor.

It's your job to know!

She was a secretary.

But she's not typing
letters anymore.

Oh, no, she's getting
the other secretaries

to walk off the job.
She's leading a revolt.

I could lose the female vote
over this stupid joke.

Jesus, you know how I feel
about this baloney.

I can't afford
to look like a phony.

Damned if I do,
damned if I don't.

Either way, I'm gonna
have a friggin' stroke.

- Let's see how serious they are.
- What's your meaning?

- Perhaps we should let them get the feeling.
- The feeling?

Instead of us breaking in,
we close them off.

Build a perimeter,
a wall around them.

- Wall?
- Operation hot and bothered.

Your honor, we surround
the armory with speakers

blasting one of those romantic
slow jams from the '70s.

Those crooning brothers will make those
mommies wet and make them wanna jet.

Those chastity belters will end their
sex strike and climb mount pike.

We run the ball
right down their throats.

With total male pride, mayor, you
win this with their appetite.

You never have to say
you were right.

You never attack
or call them weak.

- And you always seek the peace.
- You're a deviant bastard.

That's why I went into
public service, your honor.

Touchdown, bears! Rah!

Love you.

No peace, no pussy!
No peace, no pussy!

No peace, no pussy!

Lysistrata! Lysistrata!
Lysistrata! Lysistrata!

Hello. Hi. Good afternoon.

Excuse me. Would you happen
to be Ms. Clara worthy?

No, sir. And who might you be?

I am Mr. Morrowburns.

How might I help you, sir?

Ms. Clara worthy,
is she around?

Is this the right address?
6328 Elizabeth Avenue, right?

- Yes, it is.
- Do you know Ms. Clara worthy?

Well, I better.
Clara's my younger sister.

I'm Ms. Helen worthy.

Wonderful. Pleased to meet you.

I love your garden.
It's very beautiful.

- Well, thank you.
- Is your sister here?

No, sir. You just missed her.

Clara's going on up to Jackson,
Mississippi, to visit our parents.

- You're kidding.
- Yeah, she left last night.

- I have cousins in Jackson.
- Do you?

I do. We might be kin.

- Might could be.
- Might could be.

Listen, could you give your
sister a message for me, please?

Well, that's gonna
depend on the message.

Right.

Oh.

Oh, red, white, and blue
insurance company.

We got word in the home
office that your sister

has a young son, a teenager
by the name of homer worthy.

I came to tell your sister that
she really should consider

taking out a life
insurance policy on homer

because I'm sure you know that
young black boys on the south side

are more than likely
to be shot and/or killed.

And so the red, white,
and blue insurance company

is hoping to help
single mothers

like your sister
in case of a tragedy

because, of course, it's always
better to be safe than to be sorry.

- Mr. Burnsmorrow... whatever your name is.
- Morrowburns.

If you don't leave here
right now right this second,

you're gonna need a goddamn
insurance policy your goddamn self

coming up here in my garden
with this here bullshit!

Leave!

- Leave!
- It's Morrowburns.

Do you think I give
a flying fuck

about your fucked-up name?

Get on off the street, man.

Have a nice day, ma'am.

Go on back up to the big house

- and you tell them it didn't work.
- Have a nice day, ma'am.

Out here trying to take advantage
of your own goddamn people.

Come on, ladies.
You got children.

If y'all have any
information, let us know.

Save our babies!
Save our babies!

Save our babies!
Save our babies!

Back up, sucka.
Don't give us no smack.

Or we'll beat you to death with
Pampers, Gerbers and Similac.

Talk that talk,
but you're gonna jail.

And don't even think
about bail.

Who do you think
you are, Rosa parks?

What a damn farce.

Yo, we in a hurry

like a ferguson
or staten island jury.

Those judgments were fair.

Look, y'all, nobody cares.

Trayvon Martin. Mike brown.

Tamir rice. Walter Scott.

Rekia Boyd and Freddie gray.

Black lives matter every day.

Not just when you
trigger-happy cops go astray.

Dude, you think sister
Sandra bland hung herself?

You kill us with impunity.

You give them the opportunity.

'Cause we kill
each other like flies,

you rogue cops
think you can capitalize.

You thugs don't care about
each other, why should we?

Thugs? Who the fuck
you calling a thug?

Because we are we.

No matter what our problems
are, we deserve respect.

Even though our lives
ain't perfect,

we deserve respect.

Even though we live
in terror town,

- we deserve...
- Respect!

And if you
don't understand that,

then, brother, step back.

You and your
Dr. Ben Carson lot.

Yeah, I'll kill that for you.

I'm a killer.
Killing that pussy, huh?

- Huh? Huh?
- Oh, chi-raq!

I'm a killer?

- Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!
- Huh? Yeah, come!

How'd you learn
to make love so good?

Repetition.

They call chi-raq
the pussy magician.

You are crazy like glue.

One time...

I saw my mom and this
dude getting it in...

Right after my daddy
got killed.

Dude named blue Monday used to come
around and try to pimp on my moms.

She turned a few
rent tricks, I think.

Kill me!

Kill me!

Kill me!

Kill this pussy!
Kill this pussy!

Go on, nigga, didn't I
tell your skinny black ass

to knock before you
come in my bedroom?

I'm sorry, mommy.

Demetrius, close
the goddamn door!

Demetrius, go!

Did you understand
they was making love?

That's what they was doing?

Looked more like fighting,
fucking, and screwing.

Blue Monday knew that
I saw him and moms.

Her name was Lucy.

So one day he just
pulled me aside,

yanked my chain,
laced me with the games,

showed me how to pull
bitches and everything.

He soft-pitched me
my first piece.

I was, like, 12 years old.

Taught me how
to be a man and shit.

Handed me his baddest
bottom bitch.

It was a present
for washing his Cadillac.

- My god.
- I know, right?

Should have got like
two or three bitches.

I washed the shit
out that Cadillac.

Where's your moms now?

Demetrius, close
the goddamn door!

Fuck off. Talk about my mom.

This is an emergency.

- We're all here for peace, right?
- Yeah.

I wanna hear you
scream for peace.

Can you scream for peace?

'Cause that's what we want
and that's what we're about.

We gotta stop the killing.
We gotta stop the killing.

Chi-raq, what's doing?

You know how we do, tiny Tony.

Check it, man. It's all there.

Okay, them 30 poppers.

All right,
yeah, spine stoppers.

Keep it coming like that.

Appreciate it.

Trojans!

Hole in a trojan the size
of the ozone, you know?

Chicago's peace is our Selma.

Brothers and sisters, it is
time to cross the bridge.

- Put down the gun.
- Put down the gun.

- Put down the gun.
- Put down the gun.

- Put down the gun.
- Put down the gun.

- Don't shoot.
- Don't shoot.

- Don't shoot.
- Don't shoot.

- Don't shoot.
- Don't shoot.

- Stop the violence.
- Stop the violence.

- Stop the violence.
- Stop the violence.

- What do we want?
- Peace.

Save our babies.
Save our babies.

Save our babies.
Save our babies.

Please, don't shoot!

Save our babies.
Save our babies.

It's dick day. Omaha beach.

And uncle Sam's pulling
out everything

but the bedroom sheets.

Now they hooking up
the noriega speakers.

Remember Panama, y'all?

That was the one
before the other one

before the other one
as I recall.

Well, them atomic
woofers and tweeters

made general Manuel's
machete snap.

Too many dbs for them
pockmarks to bear.

Plus he's ugly as crap.

Our boys caught that dictator
in a rock-and-roll trap.

So now the commish, too,
done figured out

how to make those pussies clap.

A black-headed woman make a
freight train jump the track.

A long tall gal make
a preacher ball the Jack.

A blonde-headed woman
make a good man leave town.

And a redheaded woman
make a boy slap his pappy down.

Ashes to ashes.

Dust to dust.

This sex strike go on
much longer,

bishop t.D. Jakes gonna cuss.

Operation hot and bothered.

We turn them on,
they turn themselves in.

We'll stick those prick
teasers in a federal pen.

Ladies, I found these earplugs
in the artillery room.

It should help
drown out the bombing.

Booty, Booty, Booty,
Booty, Booty, Booty.

Booty, Booty, Booty,
Booty, Booty, Booty.

Booty, Booty, Booty.

My god, he's got
Booty on the brain.

For god's sake, do something.

Yes, sir.

Wheel him out of here.

Poontang. Poontang. Poontang.

Poontang on the membrane.

I want a big Booty. I want
a small Booty. So fine!

- I do love those chi-lites, though.
- So fine!

Eugene record, lead singer,
wrote most of their songs.

Yo, peoples, dig.

The problem with them quiet
storm slow jam grooves

is everybody gets
in a baby-making mood.

It's been three months, y'all.
Can you believe it?

A long hard three.

This is no longer a test.

It's a national emergency.

Pussy!

I need some motherfucking twat

and I need it now.

It's making me fucking insane.

Goddamn!

That boy's balls
was bright blue.

He's an 18-Wheeler
carrying a heavy load

whose arrival is overdue.

But like wild bill told
Monica on her way down,

"don't let that shit drip.
They'll use it as evidence."

Let's speak on something
else don't make no sense.

Remember the two
concert gunmen?

Let's check in on those fools

and see how they do.

So y'all remember me?

But did y'all know my mission?

Kill those spartan niggas
before intermission.

Those bullets severed my spine.

Tore my behind.

Now I'm unable to walk.

Thank god I can still talk.

I was chi's boy.

What I'm now, I can't say.

What did I seek?
To be monster Greek.

Being thug is what I love.
How you like me now?

Lost a kidney, my spleen,

most of my digestive tract.

From one goddamn bullet, dawg.

That's the keeping it 100 fact.

Now I'm fed through a iv.

I can barely pee.
Jack, I'm no longer me.

What it means to be 18
and black.

This is sparta? Huh?

Squad! Gang!

- My niggas, what is this?
- We sparts.

Sparts supposed to hold them
hostage with the sausage.

Y'all motherfuckers
got it? Spartans.

I don't know why y'all crying like
somebody cancelled kwanzaa and Christmas.

Instead of lying in the trenches,
y'all acting like a bunch of bitches.

See, we just wanna
check in Betty Ford.

Get that sexual healing.
You know we reeling.

What do I care if them foo-foo heifers
lit y'all, up and negated the back?

I'm chi-raq, nigga.
I cuts no slack.

So y'all go back to your little b.B.
And Bobby blue bland rhythm.

Chi don't get the blues, nigga.
I give 'em.

Old ass Otis know.

This strike got spartans in
purple drawers with blue balls.

Well, shit, sparta,
that's on y'all.

Born in chi-raq.

This is ridiculous.

No, no, no, no, no.

I done put good paper
out on chi-raq.

Why that motherfucker
ain't dead?

- Can't get nobody to pull the trigger.
- What?

Go figure.
I'm telling you, dawg.

Niggas ain't the same no more.

All they wanna do is
just sit around thinking.

- Say what?
- Thinking.

Thinking?

Thinking? Thinking about what?

- Pussy?
- Nah, bro.

You thinking about pussy?

Purse first, ass last,
motherfucker.

Fuck, gs up, hos down.
Whatever happened to that?

Nah, about this gang life.

What?

Beso, look it here.

We're cheese and light fatback, baby.
Top dog since way back.

Come correct with this shit now.
What the fuck is going on?

Cyclops, you my man,
50 grand, long and strong.

But I'm telling you
they ain't wrong.

These niggas is shaking like
having a seizure in a dice game.

They minds is racing. And
I got a baby on the way.

- Oh, shit.
- I wanna see my shorty grow up

- and not crying over my open grave.
- You're getting soft.

People call it soft, but think
about all the niggas we lost.

They told me it was gonna be rough
when I got out of the joint,

but I didn't know
it was gonna be like this.

What about the war wounds, baby?
War wounds don't mean nothing?

Yeah, the war wounds
was when it meant something.

So what about your name
in the game, huh?

Our name has got us
six feet deep.

Nobody? Nobody? Jah rude?

Yard boy. Go on now, y'all.

What? Bumbaclot ratchet.

Cyclops, you might
wanna a hear word, bro.

If you ain't fixin'
to listen to me, bro,

you might wanna listen
to your woman indigo.

You're not gonna listen?

- Bro, you can at least talk to me.
- Okay, okay.

- Let's talk eye to eye.
- Okay. Okay, yeah.

Eye to eye patch.

Chastity belt keys up.

Like clockwork, Rasheeda.

Go, come on.

Move. Go, go.

Go, go.

Come on, doc.
Get on up there, doc.

There you go. After you.

Ow.

You're a pig.

If I didn't miss
my boo so much,

I would slap
the shit out of you!

Bitches and hos,
come out to play.

Bitches and hos,
come out to play.

With our keys, we shall unlock

the sacred brotherhood
of male needs

and seize the means
of reproduction.

Those chastity belts are no
match for a manly man's keys.

Time to let that thing breathe.

So pack up this
Gloria steinem act

and get y'all ass
back in the damn sack.

Take off those chastity belts
and surrender the armory.

Nobody moves, nobody gets hurt.

- You all right?
- What's going on?

Well, well, well.

What's up?

That all you got?

Girl, this sex strike scheme
ain't nothing but a wet dream.

You're trying to act
all NFL Roger Goodell.

Wench, please, all you
chicks gonna burn in hell.

Don't worry. If you act
polite and not all saditty,

we just might issue you
some damn pity.

Nah, see, we don't wanna fight,

but you cro-magnon
can't walk upright.

You old dudes,
you lack insight.

Who your mommy and daddy?

I gots no mommy and daddy.

- You ain't got no folks?
- Everybody's my folks.

So you never had a pappy to
school you on the female way.

It takes a man to teach a
heifer like you how to behave.

I'm sorry that our effort to reform
has left you unable to perform.

But even before the strike,

that's what your penile
implants was like...

soft.

Oh, snap!

You trifling
little black bitch.

This ain't no joke.

You old tired dicks
just want a Viagra poke.

Dude, this is about
life and death,

about a community
that's a wreck.

And you wanna sit here
and talk about how women behave?

Fool, we trying to free
these slaves.

Slaves to the madness.
Slaves to this violence.

And what, you just want us
to silence?

We gonna make sure these fools
put down these guns

and stop thinking
that this craziness is fun.

You see, we women,
we understand

that life is about more
than polishing your knobs.

Saving lives, that's our job.

It's about bringing
an end to this strife

and giving the hood
the true meaning of life.

What is the true
meaning of life?

You don't know?

Ole Duke, why don't
we go home, huh?

My mommy is worried about
you and I and the knights.

- Your mommy?
- Yeah, yeah. Whatever.

Your mommy's on strike, too.

Thank you, guys.
Bye, have a good night.

And don't forget, no peace...

No pussy.

No peace, no pussy.

Damn!

Brooklyn, put the guns down.

Brooklyn, put the guns down.

Brooklyn, put the guns down.

Brooklyn, put the guns down.

Brooklyn, put the guns down.

Brooklyn...

The president
called me this morning.

- The president?
- He was very upset.

World leaders are in crisis.

The infrastructures of their
country are collapsing.

The leader of the free world

thinks the entire matter
is my fault.

Mr. mayor, it's not your fault.

That's right because
it's your cocksucking fault!

The president of the United
States called me a name today.

- No, Mr. mayor.
- Oh, yes. Oh, yes.

The president of the
United States of America

called me a motherfucking
sorry-ass punk-ass bitch.

Oh, yes. It seems the first
lady has taken the oath.

And what's worse,
my wife has taken the oath.

She's a sexy young thing.

Beautiful.
Former model/stripper.

Honey, I'm home.

I'm in the bedroom.

Imhotep arrives.

- Oh. Oh.
- Ahoy, my queen.

Oh, Mr. mayor, baby.
I am so hot.

Your honor. My pharaoh.

I will now take
my chi-town Cleopatra.

No peace, no pussy.

If I can't have
my wife's pretty bottom,

from your tush
I'll find meaning.

And you'll be squealing like you
were in that movie "deliverance."

Give thisLysistrata
what she wants.

- She wants world peace.
- Give her fucking world peace!

You read me? Get the job done!

Chi-raq! Chi-raq!

You know I knew your pops.

Father's in there.

I'm good.

We need you and the spartans
to come down to the armory

and join in the peach talks.

Fuck I care if these
lames ain't getting ass?

Ain't my task.

So Lysistrata's not your woman?

Now you're fucking with my rep.

Bigger than your fucking rep.

Ain't no such thing.

Father, you know what
I've always wanted to ask you?

What a white boy like you

doing all up in the e-dub
all these years?

I grew up eight blocks
from St. Sabina.

When I took a vow
to be a priest,

it had to be in the streets
'cause Jesus rolled

with the suffering
and the poor.

Imagine no more stray bullets

killing innocent children
like Patti no more.

Bullets ain't got
no name, no eyes.

That's right.

They're just designed
to take lives.

Like they'll take yours
soon, son.

Three places
you're gonna end up...

county morgue, county
hospital or county jail.

People downtown
don't give a fuck about you.

You in the system. You in jail.

And you won't make bail.

And it's privatized now
to capitalize.

No more insurance card.
No more family to feed.

You hanging from a tree.

You're not even
costing them money.

You're making them money.

And nobody's gonna
hear your bitching

'cause this is a new
legal form of lynching.

That's all you got,
huh, padre Miguel?

God loves you. I love you.

And I believe in my heart you
have a higher purpose than this.

Presided over
your father's funeral.

That mean anything to you?

That enough for your
little collection basket?

Thank you for the donation...

Towards the $5,000 bounty

leading to the arrest
of Patti's killer.

I'll pray for you.

Be safe.

Hey, hey.

Come on, let's go.

Any chance you could
pull your pants up?

Yo, Lys. It's me, chi.

Come to your senses?

- I got a proposition.
- Speak.

- A showdown.
- A showdown?

- That's right.
- Who?

- Me and you.
- I'm not gonna shoot you.

Not a death match.
It's a sex match.

First one to surrender loses.

You lose, you end all this.

No charges filed.

You'll make a public statement
apologizing to all men.

It's over. Done with.

And when I win?

You get whatever it is
you're trying to do.

P-e-a-c-e.

P-I-e-c-e.

Pretty damn sure of yourself.

- Contact.
- There he is.

This is better than
the goddamn super bowl.

Pop them on the griddle.
Dice 'em, slice 'em,

bait 'em, stew him
in his own caresses.

Justice.

- I wish.
- I pray.

We should all pray.

- What it do?
- 'Sup?

It's been a while.

Three months,
13 days, three hours,

seven minutes, and two seconds.

Counting days, huh, bae?

That's how long we women
have been on strike.

I see you still on fleek.

Not playing meek.

Damn!

Oh, fine!

You know I got
feelings for you.

Feelings for me?

Down to the bone.

Chi, I'm not picking
a bone with you.

I know you miss
daddy dick nasty.

Not more than you
miss this steamy,

creamy, hot butter biscuit.

Hot butter biscuit.

I'm on fire with desire.

Bring it out.

- A brass bed?
- That's enemy lead.

Mmm, that's a big ass brass bed

for banging black Booty.

What? My wife's biracial.

Whoever comes first loses.

We had some good times.

A few.

Especially in the am.

You always liked it
in the morning.

Like you liked it at night.

Yeah.

Right and tight.

Missed you.

I missed you back.

You got them bedroom eyes.

Like your man biggie say,

they hypnotize.

And like your man Tupac said,

how do you want it?

Mm.

Remember our first?

We was in a club.

You was looking too damn good.

I had the chicken and waffle.

- You had the ribs.
- Yum, yum.

Took you to the crib,

showed you how I live.

Got you some wine.

Yeah.

Beautiful time.

Mm.

You smell good.

I know.

Now what about peace?

Shit, you the only
piece I need.

Turn them goddamn
motherfucking lights out!

Come on, baby, just come.

Come for me. Come for me, baby.

Yeah.

Oh! Oh, chi.

Shit.

Missed giving it to you.

We gonna win. We gonna win.

Oh, shit!

We done, yo.

- Cyclops?
- Oh!

Oh!

- That's my man.
- What?

We done.

You know we wrong, right?

- The fuck you mean we wrong?
- Dead wrong.

I want my woman indigo more than
I want a dead yo spartan purple.

Not getting some because
we out here acting dumb?

I'd rather my glock don't
cock than my nuts stay numb.

Lysistrata took no pity.

Turned out every gangster in this city.
Global, really.

I asked cyclops to be here.
You've been played for peace.

This the 411.
Listen to your queen, son.

I had time
to reevaluate my shit.

Don't think I turned bitch, but
motherfuckers like us in the life,

we, too, need to strike.

Put some change in our refrain

and stop all of this
killing pain.

Thus...

We the united federation
of gangsterism

for the state of
Drillinois hereby decree

we cashing in our chips.

Done with all
of this dumb shit.

Now we just waiting on you.

So what it be, g?

Yeah, yeah, yeah.
Whatever, nigga.

Look, I'm over here
putting in work.

I got this. I'm about to win.

We got this.

We...

Got nothing.

Every fortune 500 company
has signed the peace accord

ensuring that every person
in the hoods of America

of employment age
is guaranteed a job.

And I don't mean
no minimum age neither.

New hospitals and mental
health facilities

will be built by the
United States government.

And finally, there will be a
much needed trauma center

on Chicago's south side.

Lysistrata,

this is what
justice looks like.

We will now sign
the peace accord.

Yeah.

Peace is not
the absence of war,

but a new found love
for one another.

Your Johnsons brought
you to the table,

but that truce is unstable.

We need truth and
reconciliation for the victims,

the ones that live
with this pain of loss

and must deal with
the long-term human cost.

Chi-raq.

We are the mothers
of the hoods.

All have lost someone
to this senseless war.

There will be
no birthdays for them.

No first dates.

No walk down the aisles.
No tomorrows.

Why the fuck y'all got
me on full blast?

Why y'all trying
to put me on front street?

This is my Pam.
She is 10 years old.

- I don't want to hear that shit.
- Chi! Please.

One summer day

back when we lived in the
cabrini-green projects,

Pam was outside
jumping double Dutch

when they started shooting.

She was shot
through her left eye

by a stray bullet.

This was over 20 years ago.

And children dying
from stray bullets

wasn't a common occurrence
like it is today.

Days later, a young man
came to my apartment

and he begged my forgiveness.

Then he confessed
to the police.

Back then it was a violation

of the gang code
to murder children.

He knew.

He knew

if he didn't confess
to me and the police,

that the gangs
would end his life.

That man was your father.

Jamel.

Never knew him.

Only heard stories.

Got killed in prison
when I was just a shorty.

He tried to be a good man.

You can be a good man.

Be a good man.

Be a good man.

Be a good man.

Be a good man.

Be a good man.

Be a good man.

I did dirt.

You got something
you wanna say?

I killed your baby Patti.

God!

It was an accident.

God!

God!

God!

Pray for me. Please.

What y'all looking at?

Time for you to do the same.

Take the blame. Take the claim.

Take it on the chin
and confess your sins.

Be a man and quit trying to
suppress this pain you in.

Hell of a mess,
this gang you in.

Sleepless nights.

Too weak to fight.

Couldn't reach us
to teach us right.

Our crying mothers.
Our dying brothers.

D and d, that's what they want us to be.
Deaf and dumb.

But you see, the only one
we protecting is the gun.

So run, nigga, run.
I let it run out of me.

'Cause I'm finally free
from all these demons.

Finally, they leaving.
Finally, I'm breathing.

So bring the truth.
Bring the truth.

Bring the truth, brother.
Bring it.

He'll be all right.

Chi-raq can take care
of himself.

That's Demetrius.

It's not chi-raq.

As Stevie wonder sings,

all in love is fair.

Well, I ain't
too sure about that,

but for now I'll say yeah.

Lysistrata formed an army

more powerful
than the Roman empire.

Burned through the city
just like that Chicago fire.

So remember
queen prophet Lysistrata

and the lessons
that she taught you.

The only real security
is love, y'all.

L-o-v-e.

Let's all together make chi-raq

back into Chicago,

city of the broad shoulders.

Peace. Two fingers.

Wake up!

This is an emergency.