Original subtitles

- We'll be back to our never-ending Madea marathon

after a word from our sponsors.

Chicken, nigga! Bwah! Bwah!

Brrrrah! Yeah!

Only at Wapeye's.

- 1738!

- Man, these rappers have so many diamonds in their mouth,

you can't understand anything they're saying.

- That's why it's called music.

- Yeah, it ain't about the lyrics,

it's about the emotion.

- Lyrics is for white people anyways.

- You under-educated negroes,

and Milk, sadden me.

You guys are perpetuating stereotypes

by listening to this bogus mumble rap.

This is exactly why my group Afroanonymous

has been working around the globe

to make black lives matter.

- Man, why you always fuckin' up my high

with all that positive

"black people can do better" bullshit?

- Yeah, you Steve Harvey-ass nig.

Ahhh!

- You talk a big game with

all that militant mumbo-jumbo,

but what have you done besides pay the rent?

- And stock the fridge?

- And pay child support?

- Well, a Commandant from the Congo was so impressed

by my Twitter hashtags

that he wants my help overthrowing an evil dictator.

So I'm going to Africa.

- Little nigga, you eight!

You can't just decide to go to Africa!

Who gon' take care of me nigga, damn!?

- This is the opportunity of a lifetime:

a chance to go to the cradle of civilization,

the source of humanity,

the motherland... - Wapeye's?

- Do you guys hear me?

I'm gonna go do something Malcolm, Martin, and Spike Lee

could never do: I'm gonna save Africa.

- Aye caa, I got us some diamonds and chicken.

- Gimme that! Slow down!

Don't take all the good pieces!

- Stay black.

Word!

- I can't believe Malik left you and Montrel

at the crib by yourselves.

- Yeah, me neither. That's neglectful.

- But hold up, isn't this a good thing?

- Yeah, with Malik out the way,

we can finally get up on some THOT-y pimpin'.

- Now we got a after-hours spot to take the breezies

after Rochella's Freaks and Skeets party.

- Now that I have your attention,

I have bad news, guys.

Due to a debatable tax evasion case,

Uncle Sam put a boot on my house.

So there's no party.

- That sucks.

- Now what are we gonna do?

- Aw, man, I was gonna get my V-card punched at that party.

- Again, bitch?

- You hear that, Grove?

Cindy was finna let us smash.

- Hold up. What you mean, "us"? - Shotgun!

- Don't you see this THOTportunity?

We need to throw our own party.

- I don't know, my nigs.

My place is in the hood.

The only parties that go down on my block

is search parties.

- True dat, but whoever throws

the party of the year

becomes legendary.

- And you know with that home court advantage,

you'll be able to take Cindy to your bed

and show her your temperpenis.

- Ooh, Cindy and Grover.

- Uh, maybe I should have the party,

because, you know, that's what popular students

are supposed to do.

And I'm the most popular guy here,

- ManComeOnRandyYouTrippin Ain'tNobodyKnowAboutYou.

- Hey, guys. I've got an announcement.

- Hold on to that. I'ma let you finish.

Hey, everybody, the party is back on...

at Grover's house!

all: Grover! Grover! Grover!

- Oh, my goodness. I can't believe this.

We're in Africa. Isn't this great?

You're right. We should just take it all in.

- And who are you?

You cannot be one of my warriors.

Your chest is small, your skin is soft,

and you have both of your arms and feet.

- I'm Malik from Afroanonymous.

- Who? Oh, yes.

The American revolutionary

that gives good hashtags.

You stay, how you say, "woke." - That's me.

- As you were told, a powerful evil

has descended upon the great continent of Africa,

corrupting the minds of the people

with its juvenile, ghetto, and questionable antics.

Its ratchetry knows no bounds.

We will require your great war strategies to conquer it.

- Madea?! She's a fictitious character.

- No, no, no.

Tyler Perry is the fictitious one.

Madea is very real.

Sometimes she likes to dress as a straight man.

She needs to be destroyed.

- Wow, you want me to take out Madea?

I won't just be saving Africa.

I'll be saving all of Black culture!

Ha, ha! Yeah!

- I can't wait to try these new Dos Beckies.

- This party gon' be legendary.

The house is clean, the drinks is mean,

and my meat's finna be seen.

Bars! - Yep, we posin' to be chosen.

And sippin' for a tippin'. Bars!

- Yup, I'ma put my exclamation point

in A'pos'trafee'a

and my thumb in her semicolon.

That's sexual grammar, homey.

- Hey, y'all make yourselves at home.

Don't mess up shit.

I ain't trying to hear my little brother's mouth

when he get back.

- Yo casa es our casa, caa.

- Hold up, 'Trel. I thought you was gonna

smash that bad one in Diamond Bar.

- Apparently "Flo-Rida's" in town again.

Man, she say that bullshit

around the same time every month.

- Ain't no blood ever stop me, caa.

- Well, I was thinking about having a few friends over.

- Nigga, you wit all your friends.

I'm in charge when our little brother's gone.

Ya feel me?

Me and the homies ain't goin' nowhere.

- Aye, don't just stand there looking stupid.

Hand your Crip one of them Dos Beckies.

And not the red one, caa.

Aye!

- Nigga, you ain't got nothing on these.

Ugh!

- Montrel and his boys are eating all our eats

and drinking all our drinks.

There's not a chip left in the house.

- The party's finna start, and these old-ass relics

finna scare away all the beezies.

Or worse, give 'em that antique dick.

- Everybody calm down.

I got an idea.

- Yo.

Hey, Montrel, guess who stopped bleeding?

- Champika? - Yeah, baby.

So if you're sitting on the couch smoking weed

with a lot of dusty-ass, broke, ignorant niggas,

y'all should get in the car

and come to Diamond Bar

and get some of this dirt star.

- Oh word!

- Aye, let's roll, caa. - Move it, move it.

Oh caa, I got first, caa.

Diamond Baaaa...

Aaarrr!

- I have the chance to take down

that megalomaniac and restore value,

self-respect, and awareness to the Black community.

No more "Love and Hip-Hop."

No more Wendy Williams.

No more BET.

I'll be a Civil Rights Legend.

- Hellur! Hey, Oprah.

We's about to make my 20th movie this week.

No, I'm not wearing your dress.

I am wearing her dress.

I don't know where that dress is.

Ask Gayle. I got a movie to shoot.

Places, everyone. Places.

- I have a new movie for you:

"Madea Goes to Hell."

- Too late. Already wrote it at lunch.

Now where'd you come from, little nigga baby?

- I'm Malik. I've been sent here to kill you.

- Oh, this shit again?

Why does every Brillo pad head muthafucka wanna kill me?

Lee Daniels, Stedman Graham, and for some reason,

the delectable Odell Beckham, Jr.

I don't know what I do to him.

Oh, wait, now I remember.

I'm so bad.

So look, nigga baby,

you go wait up there in the castle

while I finish these two movies,

and we can chat about all this killing and whatnot.

Michael Jai White, take him away.

- Yo, bro, this party lit, homey!

- Now all I need is Cindy to see that I'm the man.

- Why you worried about Cindy

when you got these titties in your face?

- Yeah, what kind of host is you?

That's real rude, my dude.

Put some respeck on them milk makers.

- Whoa, Cindy, why you look

like you been churnin' butter?

- I had to dress like this to get out of the house.

My dad thinks that I'm at TD Fake's Hymenkeeper's Revival.

- A'ight den.

- Oh, that's my song!

- So you not gonna ask me to dance?

It's my song too!

- Well, you should give it back.

- Hey, shit crew.

Let's get this party started.

Aye, yo, fellas, help.

- Stop being such dick-weeds.

What's your problemo? - Ain't no problem.

We've just reached maximum cock-pacity.

- So kick rocks, mark-ass nigs.

Argh!

- Yo , fellas, you smell something?

'Cause I smell pussy!

- Montrel, what are you doing here?

You know Flo-Rida's in town.

- Flo-Rida, you here for real?

You ain't her period.

- Yeah, I come down here every month

This my house.

- I think we got catflipped, caa.

- Don't nobody catflip 'Trelly.

I'ma call the number back

and see what the fuck is going on.

- Who dis is? - Jamal!

You the one who sent us on this wild goose chase?

Ooooh, I'ma fuck you up when I get back.

- But that wasn't me. It was Grover.

Hello? Shit!

- Mmm, okay.

Come on, Grover. Just go over there.

It's your party, your house.

She ain't gon' say no.

What if she do say no?

Then you just got shot down in your own house

at your own party.

Nah, I better just stay here.

What the...

- I'm trapped, Grover. Help me!

- Grover! - Oh, shit!

- I've been looking all over for you.

Aren't your gonna make time for some fun?

It is your party.

And I thought you said you could dance.

- I can. - Well, show me, then.

all: Yeah! - Okay.

- Damn, Grover.

I didn't know you could throw a party like this.

- I can do a lot of things you don't know about.

- Oh, yeah? Like what?

- Grover, my nig.

I really need your help.

- I know what you about to ask,

and the answer is no.

I'm about to take Cindy to my room,

so you gonna have to roll Medina's big ass to the garage.

- It's not that. It's just--

- Hey, man, I'm working right now.

- Dis nigga!

- Well, that's just great.

I guess we're not shutting the party down.

Let's just go home and jerk off.

Whose house this time? Yours?

Yours? Who's with me?

- ManWeAlwaysJerkOff AtMyHouseMan

I'mTryingToGetAllTheStains OffTheCouch.

- You got a better idea? - Uhh!

- Oh, shit, what happened to the lights?

- Oh, shit, Montrel's here!

He gon' kill me!

Sorry. Damn. My bad.

Oh, girl, you got some big-ass titties.

- Aye, man, fuck you.

- Sorry 'bout that.

- Now what?

I hope Malik paid the electric bill.

- Well, too bad it's dark.

I was ready to see what you was working with.

- Oh, word? I'll be right back.

- You got a saboteur, my nig.

Ahhh! - Randy bitch ass.

- Well, we got to get these lights back on,

or this going down as the most un-legendary party in history.

- I know. Malik's trap house,

He got a generator.

- Let us handle that.

You go warm up Cindy's THOT pot.

- "A place where even dreams believe."

That makes no sense.

- Ain't got to make no sense.

It was written by the man/woman himself.

Logic is her kryptonite.

- Wait a minute, you're Michael Jai White.

- Uh, who? Oh, yeah, that's me.

- Riiight.

Michael Jai White, you were Spawn,

and that cool gangster dude in "The Dark Knight."

You've been in about 4,000 straight-to-DVD movies.

What happened to you, brother?

- I busted my ass learning karate and shit,

but Hollywood don't want no strong black man.

They want half-men like Omar Gooding.

- Come on, man, you know she's evil.

She destroyed the minds of black people in America.

Now she's trying to turn Africa into Atlanta.

- Aflantica? Zulus in high heels?

Hey, man, stop making me think.

As long as I can get paid and take care of my family,

I don't give a fuck.

- A'ight, let's go back in.

- Uh, that's okay.

Uh, I'ma just chill in the trap house.

- This the party of the year.

All those drunk breezies in there,

and you gonna hide in the treehouse?

- Uh, yeah, you know me.

I stay hittin' the trees.

- What the fuck is up with you?

- Montrel found out I was the one that called him.

He said he's gonna kill me.

- Man, we homies.

We ain't finna just let Montrel beat the brakes off you.

We got yo back. - This party's turnt.

What happened to my panties?

- You understand I got to leave you, right?

It ain't personal.

It's pussy.

- Now, where were we?

- Where's my begotten Scrilla seed?!

- Oh, shit. - Ohhh!

- Who dat? - Cindy, nigga. Come on, now.

- Uh, she ain't here, Pastor.

- If I find out you lying, Milky Toast,

I'm kill everybody in this muthafucka.

- Oh, Lord.

- Now where is she?!

- If my dad finds out I'm here,

I'll be grounded tell Jesus comes back.

I'll never experience my first time having sex,

my first time turning down anal,

my first time saying yes to anal.

- Don't worry, I got you.

- You know, Grover,

most guys woulda got the hell out of here.

But you a real one.

If he's gonna kill you,

the least I can do is give you a hug.

Damn, is that you or the broom?

- God, I hope it's me.

- Now look, Cindy ain't here, buster-ass Scrilla.

I heard she was at a friend's house...

either reading the Bible

or exploring their bodies and shit.

So to answer your question,

nah, homey, she ain't here.

- Well, I'm predisposed to trust all White people.

- Man, you a hero.

I'm surprised he didn't scare the shit out of you.

- Ain't nothing to a legend.

- 'Allo, Malik.

- Who are you? - I'm Idris Elba.

This is Blair Underwood. - What's up?

- Chap over there is Mike Epps.

- Man, I'm here for the weed.

- Look, we heard Michael Jai White

talking to you, and we want to help you out.

- That's great. Thank you, my brothers.

But if you could help me escape,

why are you still here?

- Oh, no, mate, we're not locked up.

We've all done shitty Madea movies,

and we're hiding until that shit blows over

and we can start getting roles again.

- Man, I'm here for the weed.

- Right. Okay, so how do I get out?

- Blair, will you do the honors, mate?

- You have to kill Madea.

Then maybe we can stop hiding.

Damn, I miss working with white people.

- I promise. Stay up, my brothers.

Peace, Malik.

- Hey, Commandant-- - Ahhh!

Malik!

You scared me, nigga.

Please announce yourself next time.

Have you killed the Evil One yet?

- I was on my way to him-her now.

What's with all the fireworks?

- For the new diamond mine.

- Diamond mines? - Yes.

And once you kill Madea,

we will take over her land and all of her employees.

With no more shitty movies to make,

they will have no choice but to work for me.

- That's what this is all about!

Using black people to mine your diamonds.

- Absolutely. With the recent rise of Mumble Rap,

my business is booming.

My plan is to put diamonds in the mouth

of every nigga in America.

We will never understand a rap lyric ever again.

Who knows, maybe Fetty Wap will become president.

- Oh, my God.

You are worse than Madea!

I will not participate in the degradation of my people.

- Oh, you will--

or you die.

- Okay, okay.

I'll do it.

- ManPleaseExplainToMeWhy WeGivingTheShitCrewAllThisBeer

WhenWeShouldBeFuckingEmUp.

- You see, Mumblemouth, when you roll a keg,

it fills up with foam and explodes--boom!

Bye-bye, Shit Crew party.

- Oh, shit!

- What the fuck is y'all doing here?

We still full up on dicks.

But actually--aye, y'all, do we need any assholes?

all: No. - Nope, all good.

You're right.

We were assholes.

But we brought you this to make up for it.

- Well, we is a little low on drank.

Bring it in.

- Hey, anybody want a "brewski"?

Grover, I'll let you do the honors.

- Noooo!

I saved the party. Legends!

- Damn, the house is jacked.

Malik ain't never gonna let me stay home alone again.

- Ha, ha! House ruined!

Party's over!

You're gonna go home and get in trouble

for smelling like beer.

- He's right. We better take our clothes off.

Whoo!

- Shh, don't fight it.

Just let it happen.

- Cut, cut, cut!

You call that acting?!

- But Madea, we ain't got no scripts.

- Ohhh, "I ain't got no script."

Execute him. - Hwah!

- Hold up. Ain't nobody dying today.

- Nigga baby!

How did you get out?

- Now's not the time, Mr. Mrs. Madea.

I need you to come with me if you want to live.

Look, so maybe you don't make the best films,

but you employ thousands of people.

I mean, you don't pay 'em nothing,

and health care's non-existent,

but you give 'em opportunity, and you give 'em hope.

You're a necessary evil,

which is why I must save you.

- From who now?

- Me, that's who.

- Hmm.

What does this delicious,

rugged Hersey nigga want?

- This delicious, rugged Hersey nigga

wants you dead.

Prepare to die.

- This is gonna happen.

In about 30 seconds, there'll be a huge explosion.

You'll be startled by it, and that'll allow me

to kick you in the shin, go into a back flip,

whose momentum will carry me and Madea

into a nearby river,

escaping the fiery carnage.

- Yeah, right.

- I've got that Danny Glover looking muthafucka

locked at six o'clock!

- Nobody fucks with the homey and lives!

So you get a bomb, and you get a bomb,

and you get a bomb!

Ha, ha!

- Apocalyptic, zombie Jesus.

Thank you, God, for saving me.

You know what?

I owe for saving me, nigga--

I mean Malik.

Whatever you want, it is yours.

- Can you stop making those bad movies?

- All that money I make, honey?

Get the fuck outta here. Hellur!

- First you steal my party,

then my girl.

Now I'm gonna steal your asshole.

Prepare to get fisted!

all: Huh?

- You know what I mean.

I'm gonna beat him up.

Fuck all of you!

Night, night, Shit Crew!

- Aye, yo, hold on, little bitch.

You think you 'bout to Ike Turner my little brother?

- 'Trel the only nigga to hit that nigga.

But I do get to hit you, caa.

Y'all wanna catch this fade too?

- Absolutely not.

- Aye, check this out.

The party's over!

Aye, hold up.

Where the fuck y'all going?

Y'all little niggas better get to cleaning.

And I want it to be spotless in this bitch.

- You know, you don't have to stay and do this.

- It's the least I can do

since my dad almost killed you.

Huh, I guess it wasn't the broom.

- Aw, come on, bruh.

- Oh, hell naw.

Flo-Rida's the only nigga

that's getting ass tonight.

Now get to sweepin'.

- Aye, 'Trel.

I'm sorry for sending you

on that wild hoe chase.

- Aye, don't sweat it, Grover.

If you can't lie to your family,

who can you lie to?

Now let me show you something else families do.

We give ass whoopin's.

- Uh! Ow, buster.

- What's up, negroes? I'm home.

- Malik? - Daddy!

- Calm down, calm down.

I'm glad to see y'all too.

- Did you get us anything, Daddy?

- Why are there ashes on the shirts?

- Yeah, why it smell like cocoa butter and napalm?

- Aye, you want the shirts or what?

- Yeah. - Thanks, my nigga.

- Where my shirt at, caa?

- Wow, the house looks clean.

I guess you guys can be responsible.

- How was Africa? - Let's just say,

nothing's changed.

- Uh, you might want to leave the room.

I'm about to watch this new Madea joint,

"Madea Unchained."

It's the one with bad acting and has no script.

- Scoot over.

- Who is that nigga on that nag?

- Hellur!

- Aye, may not be that funny,

but at least my people are working.

- Man, I'm here for the weed.