Original subtitles

(alarm ringing)

(alarm stops)

(sighs)

Whenever I get lonely

From my daydreams of you

These words I read remind me

Of the love we once knew

They tell of all the happiness

Of days gone by

And I read it till

It dries the tears

That run through my eyes

I know those days are gone

And are a part of the past

-Shit. But memories

And dreams of them forever will last

And I must learn to realize

You're no longer mine

While the boy I dream will comfort me

With every line

(engine cranking)

I tell myself

You're thinking of me

Each time I think

-Of you -(phone ringing)

But now I know

It never could be

That told...

Thanks for calling customer support.

-This is Linda. How can I help you? -RONNIE: Hi.

Linda, is it?! Well, this is ILCrewRon,

and we have a fucking code black over here!

We are losing followers by the fucking minute.

And-- excuse my French-- you people

don't know what the fuck you are doing.

Okay. I'm glad to take a look into that.

RONNIE: Yeah, take a ganders!

I see that we already have a service ticket open for you.

Y-Yes, there was, Linda.

By someone named Christopher or some shit.

And he was about as unhelpful as, um, uh,

the, uh, fucking-- I don't know fucking what!

Now, I'll tell you this, Linda.

This conversation is trending even fuck--

I-I can't. I'm just-- I'm sorry.

Hey, Linda.

Uh, it's ILCrewAlfonso here.

I'm sorry about my friend.

But, you know, he's understandably very upset

over what's been a wildly traumatic couple of hours here.

-I'm sure. -So, from where we're sitting,

it appears that we've been hacked

and someone's stealing our followers, go figure.

Unfortunately, I don't see any signs of a hack on my end.

Linda, ILCrewRonnie here.

That's because it was a fucking act of cyberterrorism, Lin-dur.

-Open up your fucking eyes. -Hey,

ILCrewAlfonso again. I think what my friend is trying

to say is that, you know,

wars aren't fought on the battlefield anymore.

No, they're fought on the cloud.

-I understand, sir. -Great.

So, talk to me about, uh... about un-verification.

How does someone of my social stature find himself unverified?

-(chuckles) -Unfortunately, we're not able

to discuss the protocol of verification.

Then what the fuck is the point?!

What the fuck's the point

of any of it?! Why do you even fucking exist,

-you piece of shit?! -Hi. Lin-dur?

This is ILCrewRonnie.

And I think, as a verified user,

I can translate for my friend ILCrewAlf.

And I think what he's trying to say is that

you think you're a fucking big, powerful gatekeeper, Linda?

Well, guess what. This is all you have

in your shit, shit, shit, shit, shit life!

Oh, yeah, that's right, Linda!

It was a fake-out!

You thought I was the good cop? Well, bitch,

I'm a fucking bad cop!

So fu... ck you.

(phone beeps off)

So, what do we do now?

I think it's all about content.

We just need to generate some dope content, you know?

Problem, though-- and this is not a judgment on us--

but our lives right now ain't exactly

(sighs) Look, it's super easy.

All we got to do is find some old pics, some B-sides of us

hanging out with Lou. Throw that shit up there.

I mean, back in the day, they used to get a ton of likes.

Ooh, what about this one?

Us hanging out with a bunch of whores

Uh, I wouldn't fuck with their NDA.

I mean, remember what happened to Craig?

Oh, here's a great one-- us hanging out with Lou

at Satellite after the Cubs won the Series.

Oh, yeah. That one got, like, boffo likes.

Most likes I've ever gotten.

And posted. Now we just sit back

and let the likes come

to Da-- What just happened?

I just lost 40 followers.

Well, if the comments are any indicator,

uh, people are finding it a hair thirsty

to be posting a picture of your dead friend.

There's also some Jew stuff, too.

There's always gonna be Jew stuff.

Yeah, what is it about you guys?

We're a lightning rod for Internet hate.

All right. Well, I guess we just got to take new dope pics.

Why don't we go back to Satellite, you know?

Have a great time, generate some dope content.

Problem solved.

That's a fucking brilliant idea.

Plus, we get to see Jenna, you know?

She'll hook us up for sure.

Jenna? She fucking loves us.

She loves us.

-Yo, what up? It's your boy Alf.

And your boy Ronnie. We out here at the world-famous,

legendary Satellite club in Chicago, Illinois.

-It's lit! -We out here.

We out here!

-Goddamn it! Cut! -(slurping)

Fuck. There ain't no Mudslides at no Satellite.

-Eh, who cares? -What is with you and these fucking Mudslides, dawg?

-Man, they're good. Whatever. -This is never gonna work.

I'm telling you, bro, if you shoot tight enough,

I think you can fucking figure it out.

I couldn't shoot tight enough

to avoid these tchotchkes if I tried.

There's a fucking ibex in the corner with Ray-Bans on.

You got toy trains everywhere.

I mean, who am I, Janusz Kaminski?

All right, fine. Why don't you just post

that picture that we took with all them girls

outside Satellite earlier?

No one's gonna know Jenna denied us unceremoniously.

Oy.

I'm verified still.

And I just feel like we do not want to risk

our crew's only verified member...

(chuckles) getting any sort of Bow Wow blowback, right?

Okay, fine, fuck it.

And... posted.

Can you fucking believe Jenna?

I mean, think of the amount of liquor we consumed

at that place over the years.

I'm pretty sure all of it was free, but...

And... roasted. I just lost 600 more.

-Already? -I mean, are these people all together?

How did they find out we didn't get into the club?

Someone just posted a picture of us

sitting at this bar right now.

-Spooky. -It's a conspiracy.

It's Assange, man.

It's Assange, who's fuckin' Snowden,

who's fuckin' Pamela Anderson.

And there's mics and cameras everywhere, dawg.

Hello?

It's it's Adult Swim,

it's it's the whole thing, man.

Don't you see?

There's no conspiracy against us, bro.

Our friend died, so now nobody gives a fuck about us anymore.

I'm telling you, dude, this is Deep State ey got Kanye!

Look, our social media footprint is disappearing faster

than the fucking picture of the McFlys in

We hit we don't fucking exist.

Counterpoint, though.

This is a wake-up call.

Don't think of it as the number we've plummeted to.

Think of it as the number we're starting at.

There are people who get paid bank just to be on IG.

Yeah, but those are all, like,

fuckin' unfunny, talentless hacks.

quot;Fuckin' millennials...quot;

Don't get me fuckin' started.

You become famous for what, unboxing stuff?

Or, like, making videos of yourself playing a video game?

Dorks. How about this sweet little white boy here

in our own backyard?

CadeWho'sPaid?

RONNIE: CadeAlwaysPaid.

quot;Never the wind gust emoji, always the beer mugs emoji.

14. Lover of Christ. Hillsong for life

Kid just got 500,000 likes for posting a reaction video

of him watching himself watch a trailer

of his Instagram story.

I hate these people.

Hate, hate, hate!

(laughing)

What?

Aw, nothing, just laughing about this thing I heard.

(laughing harder)

(laughing)

I think I... I think I heard the same thing, actually.

Is it about how these idiots are paying Instagram personalities

for, like, a... like a... like, a pic?

Like, a mention.

Just so they can boost their own likes and followers.

I mean, thirsty!

I mean, some people are so parched.

Right? Dehydrated.

Seeing mirages and shit.

Yeah.

It's like... It's like get some electrolytes, you know?

(laughter stops)

Can you guess the man behind these jeans?

Drumroll, please. (imitating drumroll)

If your guess is Yaphet Kotto, you're wrong!

(laughs): These are my aspirational skinny jeans.

That's right, I am now dedicated to losing weight.

-Good for you, Dad. -Yeah, and that Fashion Nova fit

-will accentuate those curves. -Mm-hmm.

Yeah, I love the whole big, like, Jared Fogle reveal, too.

Well, I think the big Jared Fogle reveal

was that he was a sick fuck.

I mean, dude was the Gordon Willis of naked kids.

Nice work, Ron. A cinephile joke about a pedophile.

-You are... -Well, I have been taking

a MasterClass on cinematography.

But I think my real question about Jared Fogle

is how long was protecting that guy?

Yeah, I mean, I like to eat fresh,

but not that fresh.

-(laughs): You know what I'm saying? -(laughs)

Yeah.

-It's a tough area. -Yeah.

Anyway, Dad, we need to borrow $5,000

for a very lucrative business opportunity.

And if all goes right, this could result

-in hundreds of thousands... -Possibly millions.

...of likes.

(laughs)

I thought I heard you say

that you wanted to borrow $5,000.

Yes, he did.

-And what are likes? -Well, like,

um, on Instagram when you post a picture

to let people know what you're doing at that exact moment.

-Why? -Well, so people can see all the cool stuff you're doing.

-Why? -Mmm, because if they double-click on that image,

that means they .

Why?

Oh, because th-the more likes you get,

th-the better it is for, like, everybody.

I don't know, man, it's hard to explain.

Uh, I guess...

so, my-my point is, like, the more likes you get,

it leads to more followers,

which then leads to a more lucrative career

getting l-likes and followers.

You think maybe we could just borrow this money,

no questions asked, Lafonso? (chuckles)

-I'm gonna give you the money. -(exhales) Yeah.

On two conditions:

stop banging your kin.

-That's a fair ask. -Yeah, I promise.

Okay? And the second condition:

stop fornicating with your cousin.

And I ain't playing with you, son.

Yes, sir.

Now, I've been...

I was saving this for a Rascal scooter--

aspirational, I'm aware.

I'm still...

(groans) ...multiple Fogle reveals away

from not snapping that chassis.

But I want you to get some... get some loves on old Lafonso.

You know what, Dad, maybe never mind...

You know what, thank you so much, they're called likes

and this is definitely going to the right place.

Yo, what up? It's Cade.

Hope you enjoyed the BTS of my lacrosse practice.

LaxPrax. What, what?

Stay tuned for some sick-ass vids on this sick-ass Saturday.

Don't forget to smash that "like" button.

All right, stay vibey, Cadertots.

You the pervs that DM'd me?

Yes, very nice to meet you.

Not pervs, though.

We're cool. Plus, we got the five grand, so...

All right, which-which one of you is taking the pic?

Uh, what? (laughs) Both, player.

It's five grand each, fuckboy.

Plus, with this guy's enormous head,

I'm going to have to change the aspect ratio

just to fit that fucking melon in the frame.

Who are you, Roger fucking Deakins?

No, I'm Cade Who's Fucking Paid,

not Cade Who Does Free Shit For Geezers Who Suck Each Other.

What's the play here?

I mean, do we do you, get you reverified

or is that good money after bad?

If my numbers go up, I won't forget you.

Yo, I'll do it for five if you guys do me a solid.

This mall has a rule where no one under 16

is allowed in without an adult.

And my chaperone, my momager's fiancé, Stuart, bailed on me.

So, I need you guys to walk with me if you want your pic.

Plus we can't post right now, anyways.

And why is that, exactly?

Um, maybe because of the fucking post-to-like algorithm, Dad?

Everybody knows you post at 5:00 p.m. or 2:00 a.m.

-Yeah, I mean... -Right, no. The five-two, the five-two.

Yeah, we knew that, we just wanted to make sure you knew it.

-Right, right. -So...

Dad. Are we all calling each other quot?

-Hey, I guess is new slang. -That's right, Dad.

What are we doing, man?

We're really going to give my dad's Rascal money

to this prick?

Haven't we taken enough for one day?

-Just chill. -CLERK: Cade, my man.

-Long time, no see. -Yeah, been hella busy.

Shooting a documentary about my life for Poptarts.com,

no big deal.

Sick.

So here's this week's drops.

Yeezys, Air Max 720s, new retro Threes and some NMDs.

Size eights, gave you a little room to grow.

(chuckles) Fuck you very much, bro.

RONNIE (whispering): Those Yeezys are super exclusive.

I can't believe this chotch has the plug.

Hey, just make sure he tags the store, okay?

The little ginger fuck forgot last time.

Dawg, we're not his cabana boys.

Oh, and what size are you guys?

A 12.

A ten wide, please.

Cool.

(continues rapping in Japanese)

She sends me the flame emoji.

I send her the eggplant emoji twice.

I'm the one who's got to go to the guidance counselor?

Why? For what?

(boy laughs)

What the pizza?

That's Wallach.

Just ignore him and he'll leave us alone.

Nah, miss me with that Way of the Peaceful Warrior.

ALF: Yeah, bro.

I ain't about to get punked by some child.

-We're two grown-ass, 35... -20, uh, 28.

-Tw-tw-- ooh, four... -24.

-...year-olds. -We're-we're 24.

And we're fucking pissed.

Hey! Thick, white girl.

Next time you fuck with my man, Cade,

I'm-a come to your house and fuck your mom

in your nanny's bed.

Hey, wait, you guys are Alf and Ronnie, right?

Weren't you in IL's old crew?

-It's always nice to meet a fan. -Yeah, guilty as charged.

Yeah, I mean I don't have a pen or anything, but I guess

I can sign your shirt in, like, marinara or something...

No, no, oh, my God, no.

Bro, I got to ask you guys: how did y'all go

from being in IL Lou The Sickest's crew

to Cade Who's Never Been Laid's crew?

Oh, my gosh, y'all took a huge; on this one, man.

(scoffs) That's pathet, bro, fuck. (laughs)

(laughs mockingly)

Does this look like an to you?

'Cause all I see is Gs.

Maybe he needs a closer look.

Huh? Can you see that?

ALF: Yo, son.

You think that we spent 15 years in the rap game--

yeah, we were nine when we started.

-Don't check on the math, but it-it works. -Mm-hmm.

You think we spent all that time

just holding weed and procuring late-night snacks for our boy

even though places were all closed?

Alf.

'Cause we didn't.

Nah, we was the fools

who made other fools disappear.

So what you want to do... fool?

Nothing, man, I'm-I'm good, all right? It's fine.

Thought so.

So who did you want me to make this out to, again, Paula Cole?

"To Paula.

Love, Ronnie B

Yo.

You just fucking owned him.

He's still sitting there. He must be fucking crazy.

-ALF: You better ask somebody, fool. -RONNIE: Yeah, get up.

-Yeah, bitch-ass trick. -Yeah, walk away.

(Ronnie and Alf laugh)

RONNIE: You clumsy, girl.

He left those mozzarella sticks, too.

Yeah, man, get the rest of them sticks; that was delicious.

Oh, my God, that was so sick.

Yeah, it did feel pretty good.

So, uh, can we get that, uh, picture now?

Yo, hey.

Put that stack away. We're fam now, fam, I got you.

Oh, great, well, my dad's going to be happy to get this back.

You know, we should probably talk

before we give some of it away, we might want to let it ride.

-Uh, on what? -I don't know, uh...

Okay, no.

You can't just reach into a man's purse.

You can't just put that money back in your purse

like you ain't going to give it back.

I might not give it back.

You have to; it's my dad's money.

-He gave it to us. -To give back.

Shut the fuck up, my pervs.

-Again, we are not... -Yeah, important to clarify.

Yeah, because if someone hears that out of context...

Yeah, can't stress it enough.

It's kind of like yelling fire.

Yeah, exactly.

You do it enough times, then when a real fire happens...

-Yeah, you get burned. -Exactly, you know what I'm saying.

All right. Well, I just want to hook you guys up

with something way doper than a photo.

YouTube, they're sponsoring this influencer party tonight.

Everybody's going to be there.

All right, if I show up and you come with me,

you'll be blowing up by the morning.

Will you excuse us for a moment?

We humbly accept.

Oh yeah, let me get those bags for you, dawg.

All right, yeah, for sure.

RONNIE: You almost ready, my guy?

Do these joggers make me look hippy?

I swear, I'm on the wrong side of this tapered leg craze.

I hear you, bro.

And this pleats revival is doing me no favors.

I mean, look at me. I'm all fucking tuchus.

Well, first of all, you have a gorgeous tuchus.

-Thank you. -All right?

And men's fashion today is designed for waifs.

I mean, so I like three squares a day. Sue me.

I'm sorry, I will not starve myself

so that I can fit into some preconceived notion

that society has about what a man's body should look like.

We come in all shapes and sizes.

Yeah, do you know how unrealistic it is

to expect us to fit into the Ken doll mold?

Did you know that if you extrapolate Ken to human form,

he would be 11 feet tall

with a 68-inch chest and a 20-inch waist?

Yeah, you know I read in

that if you unfurled his bulge,

it would be three-and-a-half feet long.

Who has that?

Who needs that?

You know, so young men are raised

to expect this of their bodies?

Phooey.

And Ken is this, like, rugged lumberjack

who also has enough extra casheesh to afford himself

a Corvette and an oceanside residence?

Not to mention his nine-foot-tall,

anorexic smoke show of a girlfriend

who goes by the name of Barbara.

I call bullshit on that name, by the way.

In what world?

In what fucking world?

You know... with a fucking triple-D tit,

an 11-inch waist and a round thing in your face?

-I mean, sign my ass up. -Must be fucking nice, you know?

Ugh, they're both gorgeous.

Hey.

You're gorgeous.

Hey. You know what, you're gorgeous.

-Oh, stop, I'm such a bloat. -I mean it. Y-You kidding me?

I'm looking at the pleated pants now, with the whole ensemble...

(kisses fingers) C'est magnifique, monsieur.

I'm wearing a Supreme bag like a girdle.

Well, it's working. Tell you that.

-You, my friend, I mean joggers are your pants from now on. -Yeah.

And is that a Bape sweatshirt that zips all the way up?

It does. But I won't be able to see you if I do it.

Dude.

Yeah, I mean you're right.

You're not going alone.

That's true.

You sure I don't look like a scary-ass monster?

Nah, you look like a gangster ghost.

Appreciate that, brother.

Okay, I'm going to go, uh, change before we leave.

Hey, I'm going to go and hit the bathroom,

take a piss real quick.

And I'm also going to change. I look like an asshole.

(loud dance music playing)

Welcome to the show, boys.

Little piece of advice... don't force it.

Let the game come to you.

Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah, we chill.

You got that right, playboy.

RONNIE: Y'all on Facebook?

Yeah, from an early age I liked the missions for, really,

just roaming around the world and killing people.

I really sparked to killing people,

and people really sparked to watching me kill people.

Totally agree with you, bro.

You know what you should check out?

It's like Red Dead Redemption, but IRL.

Cool. I'll tell my manager.

Now, don't post this shit until 2:00 a.m., now.

No shit, Dad.

Oh, my God, Gangsta Unwrapper, I never do this,

but I just wanted to come up and say hello, I'm a huge fan.

-Yeah, how do you do it? -I just open the toys,

say why I hate it, get more toys.

You know, I bet a lot of people tell you you're spoiled.

-No doubt. -You know what I say to them?

They're spoiled, by your talent.

Can we get a pic?

(shutter clicks, phone chimes)

You blowing up. You getting mad texts.

-Yeah. All the time. -Always.

Do you have, like,

a legal guardian or a parent around?

My driver's outside.

Driver's outside. You think you got

an extra one of them Capri Suns on you?

Not for no trick.

-For no trick... -Trick.

-Little girl calls a trick. -How old are y'all?

-How... how old do I look? 24. -(scoffs) 24...

-Times two. -Oh!

Look, I will never in my life... raise a hand to a child.

I don't think we're dealing with a child here.

I don't think so, either.

It's getting harder and harder to keep up.

It's like an arms race, but with butts.

You have more than enough junk in the trunk.

Thank you. (scoffs)

Oh, yeah, let's get a pic with it.

Dude, we're fucking doing it.

We're the belles of the ball.

Dude, it's 1:49.

At 2:00, everyone starts posting their shit,

it's going to be like, , good-bye, nice knowing you.

Outer space, hello, nice to meet you."

(chuckles) I'm about to snort a floating line in outer space.

(sniffs) Nyah, nyah, nyah.

WALLACH: Yo. There they are.

Oh, well, well, well.

How're you doing, O'Doyles?

You come to get mozzarella stuck again?

Nah. No, we came for your shit.

Starting with that Louis V bag, man.

Like I would ever give you this bag

filled with drugs and $5,000 cash.

Bro, you put the bank in that bag?

-Mm, yeah. The bag is like a bank. -Bruh!

Look, I know why you frontin', all right?

You ain't gonna do shit, you little bitch.

(grunts)

-Yeah! -Shit!

Oh, he did it! Oh, he really did it!

-That hurt so bad. -Okay. Listen,

you hurt my boy, and now it's cool.

But I think-- Oh, my God!

He dislocated my shoulder with a nunchuck! Ow!

Uh, by the way, fellas, I'm on your side, all right?

He is not a good dude.

As a matter of fact, let's get him.

(grunting)

Yeah. (chuckles)

Now we all have a common enemy, right? And it's...

and it's this guy, huh?

What are you doing? Holy crap! Oh, God!

Is that a Supreme brick?

That's pretty fucking dope. What are you doing?

Hey, what are you-- Oh, God!

quot;No, no, no.

That's my daddy's money.quot;

RONNIE: Listen, I don't know how old you guys are

or if you can cum yet, but we will

suck your little dicks off if you let us live.

Brah, we just wanted the money.

God.

Yo, those Yeezys?

I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Excuse me.

-Oh, this is-- this is a good one. -Oh, shit, look at the dads.

-Thank you very much for having us. -Someone took an

Uh, you know, we're just gonna turn in, head in a little early.

-(laughter) -It has been a fabulous night.

I think we can all turn our cameras off.

You got to stop pointing.

Yeah, remember with your heads, not with your phones.

Yo! It's 2:00 a.m.!

Post 'em if you got 'em!

-You gangster. -Go to bed.

-Go to bed, little gangster. -Gangster! Oh...

- -Et tu, Cade?

Come on, bro. Et tu?

The game's the game. There's no world where I don't post about

IL Lou's old crew taking an

-The game is the game, man. -Game's the game. That's facts.

Damn, I got to take a shit.

One of them hit me right in where that--

it creates that shitting thing.

He kicked me once, and both my shoes fell off.

Well, that sure puts a lot of things in perspective.

Yeah, a wild night.

Why are we trying so hard to make strangers love us?

Meanwhile, I just lost $5,000 of my dad's money.

Someone who actually loves me.

I'm fucking done, Ron.

Look, it was a rough night.

Been a-a rough couple days.

Been a rough week. Been a rough few weeks.

It's been a rough month.

So far, the year is a negative.

But I think we need to sleep it off.

You're right.

(bell rings)

What?

Yeah, uh,

I think I'm gonna spend the night

at my dad's house tonight, Ron.

Okay.

RON: Yeah, no. I'll... I'll see you tomorrow.

Bye!

-MAN: Let's get some drinks! -WOMAN: Whoo! I'm down.

MAN 2: Wait, wait, wait, aren't we forgetting someone?

MAN: Nah. We're good.

(door shuts)

(computer chimes)

(phone chirps)

Fuck!

Whenever I get lonely... 641

So, who did you want me to make this out to again, Paula Cole?

To... Paula.

You should've waited, bitch.

Love...

Ronnie...

-B. -Stop.

I know those days are gone

And are a part of the past

Ah, ah...

Ah... ah...

Ah, ah...

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