Friday (1995) - Quotes

Smokey: Damn!

Smokey: What up, Big Worm?

Big Worm: How much you got left?

Smokey: Man, I got a lot.

Big Worm: You still haven't sold that weed, Smokey?

Smokey: Man, I'm trying to, Worm. Niggas are broke these days.

Big Worm: I don't think you applying yourself, Smokey!

Smokey: Huh?

Big Worm: You smokin my shit?

Smokey: Hell no! Fuck with your shit? Hell no!

Big Worm: [pulls a gun closer to him] You smokin my shit?

Smokey: Now, why would I want to do shit like that?

Big Worm: I'm gonna have to fuck you up, Smokey! Playing with my money is like playing with my emotions.

Smokey: Worm! Now you the last nigga whose money I'd mess with. I steal from my mama before I mess with your shit, and you know this, man!

Big Worm: [Drives off] We'll see.

Smokey: [under his breath] Florida Evans looking motherfucker.

Smokey: [Running over to the knocked out Deebo; searching Deebo's pockets and takes the money from his shirt pocket; raising the money to a knocked out Deebo's face] You got knocked the fuck out, man! Give me my goddamn money. Payback is a motherfucker, ain't it, nigga?

Red: [Removing the silver necklace off Deebo's neck] My grandmother gave me this chain.

Ezal: [He takes Deebo's sneakers and struggles for a bit before successfully removing them; He leaves the knife on top Deebo's chest] Deebo! Deebo! Man, you should've been bobbin and weavin'. Look at ya'. Get up! Since you ain't, maybe I'll take these shoes! Big foot, motherfucker. You can have your knife too. Cause I steal, I don't kill.

Smokey: I won! Gimme my money!

Deebo: You what?

Smokey: I lost.

Deebo: Roll the dice.

Red: Deebo.

Deebo: (hands his money for another player to hold on to) Hold my money. Watch.

Red: Can I talk to you for a second?

Smokey: Ohh, shit!

Red: Pop's trippin', man. Move yo ass from my bike back. You know I wouldn't trip.

Deebo: What bike?

Red: The beach cruiser, the one I let you use a couple o weeks ago. The one I've been askin you about.

Deebo: Ohh, that bike... Hey, I know that you wanted it back, homie. It's right here...

Red: Let's just say it's both ours, down at my house and prove it.

Deebo: Cool.

Smokey and friends: Ohh, shit! (all laugh)

Deebo: THAT'S MY BIKE, PUNK!

Smokey: Goddamn! (laughs as he runs to the downed Red) You got knocked the fuck out! (laughs again)

Deebo: OH, YOU WANT SOME OF THIS TOO, OLD MAN?! HUH?!

Red's dad: No! (to Red) Get off yo ass an get in this car! Why, I dunno... why you come down here messing with these people. Hurry up!

Craig Jones: Baby, you got some money?

Joi: What? Some huh? Nigga, how much you need?

Craig Jones: About $200.

Joi: Mmm, I guess so. What you gon give me?

Felisha: Craig. Craig.

Craig Jones: What?

Felisha: Can I borrow your VCR? I need to dub a tape.

Craig Jones: Hell, no!

Felicia: [[The Mack] It's "]!" (stays in place watching Craig talk to Joi)

Joi: Uh-uh, wait a minute! Who the fuck is that bitch? Fuck you, motherfucker! You think you slick! Gon come over here and ask me for some money? Well, ask that bitch for some money!

Smokey: [rips curtain] Break yourself, foo'!

Craig: Look what you did to my curtain! You better watch whose window you be sneaking in before you get blasted on.

Smokey: With what? You ain't got nothing, man!

Craig: [pulls out a gun and sticks it in Smokey's face] With this.

Smokey: Man, where'd you get that from?

Craig: Your mama.

Smokey: Fuck you.

Craig: Fuck you.

Smokey: Come on outside, man, and stop playing.

Craig: (laughs) gotta get dressed.

Smokey: Hurry up.

Craig: Don't tell me to hurry up.

Mr. Jones: What's that for?

Craig: Protection.

Mr. Jones: Protection? Protection from who?

Craig: 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: You know how it is round here.

Mr. Jones: [raises his fists] 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. 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: I'm a man without it.

Mr. Jones: Put the gun down.

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

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?

Red: Man, why y'all didn't help me?!

Smokey: Man, I'm high.

Red: Man, that's fucked up! If that were y'all, I woulda helped y'all.

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

Smokey: Yeah?

Red: [thinks about it for a second] Oh, that was different.

Ezel: Smokey, what the hell you doin back here?!

Smokey: Hey, nothin man. Hey, I'm fixin somethin'. Hey, just stay over there.

Ezel: But I thought you wanted me to wash yo car?

Smokey: Hey, man, wash it later. Stay over there.

Ezel: Smokey, you know I ain't the smartest man in the world, but from over here, it look like you takin a shit!

Smokey: Ezel! Get the hell out of my backyard!

Ezel: Oh, it like-- Smokey, you've been eatin corn, huh?

Smokey: Oh, get the hell out of my backyard, man!

Ezel: All right, man. But, look, between me and you, man, when you're done, I'll clean all that shit for ya for two dollars, eh!

Smokey: Hey, Ezel!

Ezel: What?

Smokey: You better not tell nobody, man.

Ezel: Man, I'm not, man.

Smokey: Keep on the down low.

Ezel: All right, I'm not like them. I'll keep it down, bro. (humming as he walks away) HEY! SMOKEY BACK HERE TAKIN A SHIT!

Smokey: EZEL!

Ezel: Well, I ain't gonna tell nobody else. (resumes humming)

Smokey: Sup, man?

Craig: Wassup.

Smokey: Why ain't you at work?

Craig: I got fired yesterday.

Smokey: Fo real?! I thought you had the day off yesterday.

Craig: I did. Went in there pick up my check. Came home. Supervisor called me about 4 o'clock. Talking about they got me on video tape stealing boxes.

Smokey: The fuck you doin stealin boxes for? What, you trying to build a clubhouse? Man, I know you didn't go out like that.

Craig: 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 a stupid motherfucker to get fired on your day off.

Mr. Jones: Craig.

Craig: What?

Mr. Jones: Come in here.

Craig: Where you at?

Mr. Jones: In the bathroom.

Craig: Aw, man, I'll wait until you come out.

Mr. Jones: Boy, bring your ass up in here. What you talkin bout, you wait til I come out? I smelled your shit for 22 years; now you can't smell mine for 5 minutes? Shut the door. (grunts; plopping sound) Now, your mama told me what happened to you yesterday.

Craig: What?

Mr. Jones: That was stupid. How the hell you gonna get fired on your day off?

Craig: I don't know.

Mr. Jones: [grunts; another plopping sound; grunts; groans] Well, you need a trade. Look at that there, over there on the c-c-- On the counter there.

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

Mr. Jones: Why not?

Craig: 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: 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!

Smokey: Yeah, I got your money. And I don't appreciate you sendin your punk-ass, busta-ass, Jheri curl-wearin ass friends to shoot at me and my homie. They'd like to got dealt with.

Big Worm: First of all, don't be callin here like you some straight up "G", cause I'll cut your balls off and hand em to you, partner. I had to warn you too many times about my money, Smokey. You see, it's the principle of the whole thing. There's principalities in this.

Smokey: Yeah, well...I got your money anyways. And you sell that shit yourself next time, cause I'm goin to rehab. I'm through with this shit. (hangs up, then lights up a joint and looks at the camera) I was just bullshittin'! And you know this, man!

Ezal: Aw, I'm suing y'all! Oh, I'm hurt! Oh, my neck, my back! My neck and my back! Oh! I want $150,000, but we can settle out of court right now for $20.

Janitor: Man, get your punk ass up. It ain't even wet over here. Damn.

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

Craig Jones: That's your problem. Ain't nobody playin but you. You walk up and down the street all day playin'. He ain't playin'! You think he playin bout his money?! Then you went and dragged me into this! He know where my mama stay, know where your mama stay. You 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.

Craig Jones: (frustrated) Damn.

Smokey: What?

Craig Jones: I ain't got no sugar.

Smokey: You ain't got no sugar? Da-amn! Y'all ain't never got two things that match! Y'all got Kool-Aid, no sugar; peanut butter, no jelly; ham, no burger. Damn!

Smokey: Older the berry, the sweeter the juice.

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

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

Pastor Clever: [upon seeing Smokey rolling a joint] Scuse me brother. What we call drugs at 74th street Baptist church, we call a sinny-sin-sin.

Smokey: Well round here, between Normandine and the Western, we call this here a little twenty-twen-twen!

Craig: Well..

Smokey: Niggaaaa!

Pastor Clever: Why don't you give me a bit for my cataracts?

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

Pastor Clever: It's better to give than receive, my brother.

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

Pastor Clever: Lord have mercy! The Lord is my shepherd, He know what I want! Excuse me, brothers. (running across the street) Mrs. Parker! Mrs. Parker!

Smokey: [he holds up a pack of marajuana] Told you. The weed be lettin you know, where evil lurks.

Mrs. Jones: Craig, you know what your problem is? You have no game. (winks at Dana, who laughs at him)

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

Mrs. Jones: Now your father, he got game.

Mr. Jones: (coming out of the bathroom) Don't nobody go in that bathroom for about 35, 45 minutes. (sniffs around) Someone open a window.

Craig Jones: You call that game?