Craig Jones Quotes in Friday (1995)

Craig Jones: We ain't got no sugar.

Smokey: No sugar? Damn. Y'all ain't never got two things that match. Either y'all got Kool-aid, no sugar. Peanut butter, no jelly. Ham, no burger. Daaamn.

Smokey: Damn! Mrs. Parker finer than a motherfucker.

Craig Jones, Smokey: Hi, Mrs. Parker.

Mrs. Parker: Hi, boys.

Smokey: [quieter, but still audible] When you gonna let me *fuck* Mrs. Parker?

Mrs. Parker: What you say, honey?

Smokey: Huh? Nothing.

Pastor Clever: [at Smokey] Excuse me brother, what we call drugs at the 74th Street Baptist Church we call the sin of sin sins.

Smokey: Well round here, between Normandie and Western, we call this here a little twenty twen twen...

Craig Jones: Right...

Smokey: Nigga...

Pastor Clever: Give me a little for my cataracts.

Smokey: You didn't put in on this man.

Joi: [Mrs. Jones hand Craig phone] Hello?

Joi: Who the fuck you go to the show with last night?

Craig Jones: I didn't go to the show last night.

Joi: You ain't got to lie Craig, you ain't got to lie...

Craig Jones: Ain't nobody lyin, I didn't go to the show.

Joi: Yes you did. Cause my sister-in-law's baby cousin Tracy. She told me that she saw you at the show all hugged up wit some tramp. Now tell me who she was.

Craig Jones: Yo sister-in-law's baby cousin Tracy is a goddamn...

[Craig realzes his mom is still in the room]

Craig Jones: ... Yea, she a liar. She ain't see me in no show hugged up wit nobody.

Joi: Mmm-hmm well let me tell you what. You just tell the bitch, whoeva she is, when I catch her, Imma beat her ass!

Craig Jones: [points across the street to Mrs. Parker] Look, look, she's bendin' over!

Pastor Clever: Lord have mercy! God is my shepherd, and he knows what I want!

Pastor Clever: [running across the street] Excuse me, Mrs. Parker? Mrs. Parker!

Smokey: Older the berry, the sweeter the juice.

Craig Jones: Man, it's the blacker the berry, the sweeter the juice.

Smokey: Yeah, well she blacker than a motherfucker too.

Mrs. Jones: Craig, you know what your problem is? You have no game.

Craig Jones: What do you know about game? I got ALL the game.

Mrs. Jones: Now your father... he has game.

Mr. Jones: [coming out of the bathroom] Don't nobody go in the bathroom for about 35, 45 minutes. Somebody open up a window.

Craig Jones: You call that game?

Red: [after having his necklace snatched by Deebo] Hey, man, why didn't y'all help me!

Smokey: [slouching in his chair] Man, I'm high.

Red: Man, that's fucked up. If it was y'all, I would've helped y'all.

Craig Jones: What about the time he tried to choke me in Smoke's backyard?

Red: [pause, thinks about it] Oh, that was different.

Craig Jones: Mom, loan me 200 dollars.

Mrs. Jones: Craig, I wouldn't feel comfortable lending you money without a job.

Craig Jones: If I had a job, I wouldn't need to borrow any money.

Mrs. Jones: Exactly.

Craig Jones: For most people, Friday's just the day before the weekend. But after this Friday, the neighborhood'll never be the same.

Smokey: Why you not goin' to work?

Craig Jones: I got fired yesterday.

Smokey: No shit? I thought you had the day off yesterday.

Craig Jones: I did. I went in to pick up my check, came home, my supervisor called me about four o'clock, told me he got me on tape stealing boxes.

Smokey: The fuck you stealing boxes for? What you trying to build, a clubhouse?

Craig Jones: Hell, no, ain't got me on tape. But they said they did. Fired me on the spot. Talkin' about pressin' charges.

Smokey: Goddamn! You've got to be one stupid motherfucker to get fired on your day off.

Craig Jones: Baby you got some money?

Joi: Some huh! Umm... Nigga how much you need?

Craig Jones: About $200.

Joi: mm... I guess... What you gon give me?

Felisha: Craig

[clap clap]

Felisha: , Craig

Craig Jones: What!

Felisha: Can I borrow y'all VCR? I need to dub a tape...

Craig Jones: Hell Naw

[Walkin away]

Felisha: Its "The Mack"!

Joi: Um... who the fuck is that bitch... fuck u mothafucka... u think u slick... gon come ova here and ask me for some money... well ask that bitch for some money

[scurrrrrrrrr goes the car]

[Craig's father catches him with a handgun]

Mr. Jones: What's that for?

Craig Jones: Protection.

Mr. Jones: Protection from who?

Craig Jones: Me and Smoke... I've got to walk Smokey down to his house.

Mr. Jones: Aw, man. Your mother and I never would've moved to this neighborhood if we'd known you need a gun to walk down the damn street.

Craig Jones: You know how it is 'round here...

Mr. Jones: Oh, no, son. That's not the way it is. You kids have been nothin' but punks. Sissified. So quick to pick up a gun. Too scared to take an ass-whipping.

[holds up his fists]

Mr. Jones: This is what makes you a man. When I was growing up, this was all the protection we needed. You win some, you lose some, but you live. You live to fight another day. Now you think you're a man with that gun in your hand, don't you?

Craig Jones: I'm a man without it!

Mr. Jones: Put the gun down.

[Craig complies]

Mr. Jones: C'mon, put up your dukes.

[Craig raises his fists]

Mr. Jones: NOW you're a man. Your uncle picked up a gun, too. He found out the hard way. 22 years old. You've got a choice. This is all you need, alright?

Craig Jones: I ain't trying to be no dog-catcher!

Mr. Jones: Why not?

Craig Jones: I don't even like dogs!

Mr. Jones: That's the beauty of it! I grab a dog, and I choke him, and I kick the shit out of him! All day long, my foot up a dog's ass! Just bang-bang-bang up his ass! That's my pleasure.

Craig Jones: No, thanks.

Mr. Jones: Well, I'll tell you one thing: round here, you go to work, you go to school. First of the month, the rent is due. If you ain't got nothin' on the table, you ain't gotta worry about catchin' a dog - You gotta worry about a dog catchin' YOUR ass!

Craig Jones: What I'm trippin on, is how you gonna sell bud, when you smoke it?

Smokey: I don't know. That's my only problem.

Craig Jones: Big Worm gonna fuck you up.

Smokey: Big Worm ain't gonna do a goddamn thing, man.

Craig Jones: All right...

Mr. Jones: Now when I went to bed last night. Didn't I tell you take out the trash?

Craig Jones: Yeah.

Mr. Jones: So, why didn't you do it?

Craig Jones: I fell asleep.

Mr. Jones: I wish you was sleeping right now, I knock you upside your head with a left hook make your ass wake up and take out that damn trash.

Craig Jones: [Craig goes to the trash can to dump out his cereal]

Mr. Jones: Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey! What are you doing?

Craig Jones: I'm throwing this away. We ain't even got no milk.

Mr. Jones: You better put some water on that damn shit!

Craig Jones: Alright, I'll eat it.

Mr. Jones: Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey! Take the garbage out front son!

Craig Jones: I felt sorry for Smokey, 'cause peer pressure is a motherfucker.

Craig Jones: [Pushes Deebo] Deebo man you trippin!

Deebo: [Evil Look] Whatchu say little nigga

Craig Jones: Man thats a female!

Deebo: Shut the fuck up you little punk before I drop you like I did this bitch!

[Takes out long knife]

Craig Jones: I ain't even tryin to fight you Deebo.

Deebo: [Deebo presumes to give evil look then smiles] Ezal!

[Gives knife to Ezal]

Deebo: you ain't gonna fight me because your nothing but a BITCH TOO!

[Pushes Craig]

Craig Jones: [Craig pulls out gun]

Smokey: Man that fool just playin' man, I ain't trippin.

Craig Jones: That's yo problem. Aint' nobody playin' but you. You walk up and down the street all day playin'. He aint' playin' you think he playin' 'bout his money? He know where my momma stay know where you momma stay. He say he had a gun when you seen him right?

Smokey: Yeah

Craig Jones: Well name one person in the hood that play like that!

Smokey: [tearing through Craig's open bedroom window curtain] Break yo' self Fool!

Craig Jones: Man, look what you did to my curtain. You better watch that window you climbing in fool 'fo you get blasted on.

Smokey: With what? You ain't got nothin' man.

Craig Jones: With this!

[pointing his Glock at Smokey]

Smokey: Man, Where you get that from?

Craig Jones: Yo Mama.

Smokey: Fuck you!

Craig Jones: Fuck you! He he he

[chuckling]

Smokey: Come on outside man, and stop playing.

Craig Jones: Gotta get dressed.

Smokey: Hurry Up!

Craig Jones: Don't tell me to hurry up!

Smokey: [calling Big Worm on his phone] Hey um, did somebody... page Smokey?

Big Worm: [v.o. on phone] Don't play dumb nigger, you know who the is! You got my money?

Smokey: I ain't got it, but I'm gonna get it.

[Big Worm hangs up]

Craig Jones: What happened?

Smokey: Man he just hung up... I think we better stay in the house.

Craig Jones: You better get your ass off your shoulders and make that money.

Craig Jones, Smokey: [after they see Red's black eye] DAAAAAMN!

Pinky: [points a gun to Craig's head] Don't move! Or I'll blow your goddamn head smooth off. Now back up. Slowly! Don't say a word.

Craig Jones: But I was jus...

Pinky: [cuts Craig off] I said don't say a word!

Pinky: [giggles] Little muthafucka gonna try and rob me. Well I'ma show you how we do it here in Pinky's *noogah*.

Craig Jones: I wasn't trying to...

Pinky: [cuts Craig off] Shut up! Before I bust a cap in yo' ass. Now what'chu been done wit' Day-Day and Roach?

Craig Jones: Day-Day is my peep...

Pinky: [cuts Craig off] Shut up!

Pinky: Now who sent you, nigga?

Craig Jones: Nobody sen...

Pinky: [cuts Craig off] Shut the fu... Did I say... Ohhh, nigga! I'll... oh, shit! Say something! Say something else, nigga! I'ma tie yo' monkey ass up.

Craig Jones: Look, we cousins and everything, but don't be hooking me up with the *little* sister that's bigger than the *big* sister!

Day-Day: I got the BGs

Craig Jones: What's the BGs?

Day-Day: The bubble guts, I'm nervous and I'm bout to shit on my self

Deebo: Here come that dog truck. Shut your mouth! We about to fade to black.

Craig Jones: [as Craig notices Deebo standing in front of the truck] Daddy, Stop!

[Mr. Jones Screams]

Deebo: Get your punk-ass out of the car Craig, this is the re-match!

Deebo: Get out of the car!

Craig Jones: Punch It!

Tyrone: [as Mr. Jones drives away] Deebo! Help!

Craig Jones: Fake-Ass Suge Knight!

Deebo: [yelling out before kicking his brother in the stomach] You know I gonna find you and when I do, I'm gonna put my foot up in your ass!

[Looking down at his brother]

Deebo: Man get up!

Tyrone: Damn! Man, I'm tired. I'm goin to mommy's house.

Deebo: [pulling him by the chain on his leg] Come on!

Tyrone: [Yelling at Deebo] No!, No!

Mr. Jones: [on the way to Rancho Cucamonga] Did you see That! Those two niggas were acting like pit bull dogs!

Craig Jones: What's that smell?

Mr. Jones: Must be your upper lip, son, I don't smell nothing.

Craig Jones: Ew, I do! It smell like you didn't fall in no mud!

Mr. Jones: [while Spraying air freshener] Just use some of this spray, son.

Craig Jones: Aw, Too much!

[Trying to get the window open]

Craig Jones: What's worng with this window?

Mr. Jones: It's broken, remind me to get it fixed

Craig Jones: [Struggling to get the window open] Damn!

[discussion about Day-Day's ex]

Craig Jones: Psycho, huh? She must be worst than Left Eye from TLC or somethin'.

Day-Day: Yeah, well, this fat bitch ain't burnin'!

Uncle Elroy: I bet you smoke a lil' weed, don't ya?

Craig Jones: Why do say that?

Uncle Elroy: [looks at him] Cause your lip's turnin' black!

Craig Jones: [in Craig's halluncination showing Karla giving him a lap dance] You heard of El Nino?

Karla Joker: [Speaking Seductively] Yeah...

Craig Jones: This is El Negro. Come on down here and let me tap that ass.

Day-Day: How'd you get out here?

Craig Jones: I walked.

Day-Day: You walked?

Craig Jones: Yeah.

Day-Day: You can't be walkin' around this white neighborhood, man. You look suspect.

Mr. Jones: Now Craig, it's gonna be different living out here. Don't let your Uncle or your cousin get you in any shit. Now you hear me?

Craig Jones: Pops I'm grown now, can't nobody get me in trouble no more.

Mr. Jones: Well I'm glad you said that son, but since you grown, don't bring your black ass back home.

Mailman: [knocks on door] .

Mailman: Delivery, got a delivery.

[rings doorbell twice]

Craig Jones: Who is it?

Mailman: Got a delivery. Come on smart blood. Come on I got a delivery, its kind of hot out here buddy.

[Craig opens the door]

Mailman: Come on sparky.

Craig Jones: What's up!

Mailman: Nice house. I didn't expect you to answer it, but this is a fine place here. What are you, one of those uh, entertainer guys, huh. What do you play sports? What team do you play for?

Craig Jones: I play for the Cucamonga Cracker Killers. You want tickets...

Mailman: [waves his hand] Hey don't want any trouble with you. You don't have to send your posse out here to do a 187 in my ass. Just uh, got a little mail for you to sign.

[puts both hands up]

Mailman: Partner!

Craig Jones: What's this?

Mailman: Uh, that's what they call a delinquent property tax notice. I hope the crack killers pay well. Otherwise it's back to the ghetto you go. Uh, take it easy.

[starts singing a tune and walks away]

Craig Jones: Look, I'm your cousin an' ev'rything, but don't be hookin' me up with the little sister that's bigger than the big sister!

Damon: Craig and Day-Day.

Day-Day: Ohh...

Damon: Just the niggas I need to see.

Craig Jones: Yo, yo... what's up O.G. Triple O.G... O.G. triple... triple O.G.?

Day-Day: You got out last night?

Damon: I haven't seen ya'll in about 12 years, nigga.

Day-Day: I know, I was little...

Damon: You're grown up now, though. Give a nigga a hug, dog.

Day-Day: I'm about to go...

[Craig grabs Day-Day and runs him into Damon]

Damon: [Damnon grabs Day-Day] Yeah, man. It's cool, dog. It's cool. Come here. Yeah, right there.

Damon: [Damon looks at Craig] Group hug, nigga!

Day-Day: Come on, Craig!

[Craig walks to Damon]

Craig Jones: What's up, dog.

Damon: What's up, nigga.

Damon: It's good to be home. 'Cause in prison dog, hey... ain't nothing but the fellas, nigga.

Day-Day: I heard.

Craig Jones: [beaten up Moly walks in Barbeque restaurant] Daaaamn!

Day-Day: [imitating Moly] Someone call 9-1-1

Mr. Jones: Moly... you got knocked the fuck out!

Moly: Oh, good observation, buddy.

[looks to Craig and Day-Day]

Moly: Where were you buddies, huh?

Craig Jones: We was on our lunch break.

Day-Day: Trying to get something to eat, so we can secure this nasty-ass lot.

Moly: Good, good, good... you were eating while I was getting beating.

Day-Day: Looks like somebody beat the bricks off your motherfucking ass.

Moly: You are supposed to be a security guard, buddy, no?

Day-Day: [pretending to be olivious] We are security, ain't that a bitch?

Craig Jones: We are security guards.

Craig Jones: Ho-ho, Motherfucker!

Craig Jones: About a year ago, my pops quit his dog-catching job and went into business with my uncle Elroy. They ran this spot called Brothers Barbecue. Taste so good, make you wanna slap yo' mama. You might have seen the commercial.

Uncle Elroy: Ya'll tired of eatin' that barbecue from up the street? Where they give you more sauce than they give you meat? Then bring your big ass down to Bros. Barbecue, 15837 South Crenshaw Boulevard, that's right off Manchester. Bros. Barbecue, tastes so good, make you wanna slap yo' mama! Don't it, Willie?

Mr. Jones: Yeah, boy! Hey, mama?

Grandma Jones: What the hell you want, Willie?

[Willie slaps her]

Uncle Elroy: Ain't but one location, so it's nearest you.

Craig Jones: You might have missed it. They only had enough money for a 15-second spot. Well, my pops hooked us up with a job as Christmas help security.

Craig Jones: That's right. Got my ass back in the projects. The only place where you get robbed by Santa Claus on Christmas Eve.

Officer Hole: This is Officer Brian Dix. I'm Officer Alvin Hole, and we'll let you know if anything develops.

Craig Jones: [looks at card] Officer A. Hole and B. Dix.

Officer Hole: We'll call you.

Craig Jones: You can't talk to people like that. That's somebody's grandmama, fool.

Day-Day: I can talk to anybody any fuckin' way I wanna talk to 'em. I'm the law around here, and I'm gonna write yo ass up for insubordination. So let me do my job and you do yours. Top flight!

Craig Jones: I convince Donna's fine ass to come back to the party. I got her in my room, slid the dresser behind the door, and got myself a early Christmas present.

[door closes]

Craig Jones: *You know*!

Craig Jones: He looked like Bobby Brown in a goddamn Santa Claus suit.

Craig Jones: [to Officer A. Hole] Do your fuckin job!

Craig Jones: [walks into kitchen to discover Burglar dressed as Santa Claus eating a sandwich]

Craig Jones: What the hell you doing in my house; eating a big ass sandwich and shit?

Santa Claus: Nigga, I'm Santa Claus; where the FUCK the milk and cookies?

Craig Jones: [about Moly] He ran the whole strip mall and he owned Holy Moly Donuts. But trust me, don't never ever, ever, EVER. Ever, ever, EVER eat there.

Day-Day: [interrupting a trio of carolers] Heaven and a... fuck all that shit! Y'all hos gotta get up off the corner with that.

Sister Sarah: Excuse me, sugar, what did you say?

Day-Day: Y'all heard me what I said. I said y'all hos gotta get off this corner

Sister Sarah: You better watch yo little filthy mouth. You are talking to children of the lord.

Day-Day: I want you to know who you're talking to too: top flight motherfucking security.

Craig Jones: [running up] Hey wait a minute, Day-Day, you can't talk to these old-ass ladies like that!

Officer Hole: Oh and when we find St. Nick, what do y'all want us to do to him? Cracked ribs? Fractured skull? Little eye gouge?

Craig Jones, Day-Day: Fractured skull.

Day-Day: Beat da shit out of him.

Craig Jones: Eye gouge. That's the shit.

Officer Hole: [writes it down] And an eye gouge.

Craig Jones: Tasha, how do we look?

Tasha: Like a couple of rent-a-cops.

Day-Day: What about them rented titties?

Craig Jones: Man, I don't know if I can handle another goddamn Friday. This shit hurt.

Craig Jones: Yo, Mama. Big Mama, you alright?

Grandma Jones: Who are you?

Craig Jones: It's Craig, Mama. Your oldest grandson. The smart one. Not Day-Day.

Craig Jones: [narrating] Man, I couldn't believe how Day-Day was actin'. Ever since he got that whistle 'round his neck, he been actin' like a real asshole rent-a-cop. Look at him.

Craig Jones: [to Elroy and Willie] Y'all argue too much. Damn. Maybe y'all should get married.

Craig Jones: [offering Day Day a joint] Light it up before I beat dat ass.

Craig Jones: Why every time you get a little position of power, you abuse yo authority?

Craig Jones: [getting robbed] I ain't got nothin' but twenty funky-ass dollars.

Santa Claus: Oughta shoot yo broke ass.

Craig Jones: Look, he hit Santa ass!

Craig Jones: You need to work on yo people skills.

Day-Day: That's some bullshit. My people skills are way better than yours, nigga.

Craig Jones: You ain't evictin' nobody, 'less you got a motherfuckin' army wit you.

Mrs. Pearly: I don't need no army, Mr. Smart-ass. My son Damon home right now.

Craig Jones, Day-Day: DAMON?

Craig Jones: [in narrative] I had a nightmare 'bout that fool last night.

Damon: [flashes to dream; Damon walks into Craig and Day-Day's prison cell] Day-Day. Craig. Which one of you bitches is gonna wash my drawers tonight?

Craig Jones, Day-Day: [pointing to each other] That would be him.

[Damon tosses his laundry on both of them]

Day-Day: I wash on Sundays... anyway.

Craig Jones: Starch or press?

Damon: Starch, nigga!

Craig Jones: The clothes don't make the player, the player make the clothes.

Day-Day: I can't even do the James Brown in these pants.

Craig Jones: Good. I don't wanna see you do the James Brown.

Day-Day: Man, we ain't never gonna get no pussy in these clothes.

Craig Jones: [after Day-Day walks in on he and Donna; Donna gets up to leave] Man, I ain't never gonna get no pussy.

Mrs. Pearly: Oh yeah, Craig, tell yo fine daddy I said Hiiiiiiii.

[leaves apartment]

Craig Jones: [shudders and slams the door after her] Hate that bitch!

Craig Jones: Get yo titty off my chin.

Craig Jones: [after Mrs. Pearly seduced Willie and his wife walked in on them] Whoop his ass, Mama! Whoop his ass, Mama.

[to Mrs. Pearly]

Craig Jones: Pearly, you ain't right. Tryin' to give my daddy VD.

Mrs. Pearly: I'm callin' the police on y'all, fool!

Craig Jones: Get that lined up too first, bitch!

Mrs. Jones: [Mrs. Pearly has seduced Willie] Willie, get yo ass off that heifer!

Mr. Jones: Betty!

Craig Jones: Daddy, get yo ass off that heifer!

Uncle Elroy: Where your flashlight at? Rent-a-cops supposed to have flashlights. You gotta shine some damn body.

Craig Jones: We supposed to get handcuffs, flashlights, taser guns.

Day-Day: German shepherds.

Uncle Elroy: Y'all must ain't heard what happened to the last security guards they had 'round here.

Day-Day: Hey, I wanna ask you a question.

Moly: Okay, what?

Day-Day: When we get our guns?

Moly: Oh, no, no guns. You are top-flight unarmed security guards.

Craig Jones: What about walkie talkies?

Day-Day: And some flashlights. In case we catch some girl giving up some head right in the back behind the trash cans, I could come back there with the flashlight and catch her.

Moly: You guys are supposed to be big, tough guys. You don't need all these gidgets-gadgets, huh. All you need is this here.

[hands them whistles]

Moly: If there are any problems, you just blow. Toot-toot!

Day-Day: [they blow their whistles; Craig is standing right next to Day-Day] Goddamn, Craig!

Craig Jones: We the victims, man. We the victims.

Officer Hole: That victim shit is way overblown. Just sit there and shut up.

Craig Jones: [sotto] Asshole.

Craig Jones: Jumpin' up like you Mr. Get Bad. Where da fuck was you when he was beatin' my ass wit dat tree?

Day-Day: I ain't goin'.

Craig Jones: Stop being so scary. All our stuff might be in there.

Day-Day: I'm not... why you always got to be a hero, man? Take your... go on over there, I'll bet something bite you in the ass. I'm not going.

Craig Jones: I don't wanna get bit in the ass.

Craig Jones: You heard what happened to the last security guards.

Day-Day: You didn't even hear what happened to the last security guards, so how da fuck is I'm gonna hear it?

Broadway Bill: I'm appalled.

Craig Jones: You ain't Paul. You a nigga that steal.

Money Mike: [holding Damon by the testicles with a pair of pliers] Hold these til I get in the car.

Craig Jones: Dude, I ain't about to touch his nuts or them vice grips.

Money Mike: Oh yes you are.

Craig Jones: No I'm not.

Money Mike: Yes you are!

Craig Jones: Bullshit.

Money Mike: This is yo party. Yo pliers. His nuts. In yo hands!

Craig Jones: How is she gonna like you when she like me?

Day-Day: Because she hadn't seen me yet.

Craig Jones: I wish I hadn't seen you yet.

Craig Jones: What you need to do is grab one of these fine females and get your boogie on.

Damon: I don't wanna dance with none of these hos.

Damon: Who's that?

Craig Jones: That's, uh... that's Donna.

Damon: Who da nigga she with?

Craig Jones: Oh, that's just Money Mike, little Lucky Charms, micro-mini pimp.

Damon: Yeah, that nigga look magically delicious.

Craig Jones: [after Santa got hit by Pinky's limo] Should I tell him?

Day-Day: Let's both tell him.

Craig Jones, Day-Day: You got knocked da FUCK out!

Craig Jones: Biatch!

Moly: [while smoking a cigar] Take lunch, one half hour. Don't be late!

[walks away]

Day-Day: That's a dirty motherfucker. He gon' blow smoke in our face on the first arrest? That's bullshit.

Craig Jones: See? I told you there ain't no future in being a company man.

Craig Jones: Day-Day, we only security guards, okay? Ghetto security guards at that. We ain't Cops, we ain't America's Most Wanted, N.Y.P.D. Blue, none of that shit you watch.

Day-Day: Something like that.

Craig Jones: No, nothing like that.

Craig Jones: So all we gonna do is take it easy, make this money, you gonna watch yo temper.

Day-Day: I ain't gotta watch shit.

Craig Jones: You gonna treat people right, talk to people right. You can get yo ass kicked out here real quick.

Day-Day: So? I don't care nothin' about that. Don't nobody be gettin' outta hand.

Craig Jones: And I ain't gettin' into no shit because of you.

Craig Jones: You remedial.

Day-Day: What does that mean?

Craig Jones: Retarded.