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Hmm, hmm, hmm
Hey, Boonie! Boone -- Nigga, put that down!
That's for company.
You act like I live here. I am company.
Nigga, you ain't company. You family, hear?
Family is something you put up with
'cause they're fucking family.
Shalinka, Mr. Lloyd. -Howdy-doo.
Something ain't right. Your mama pouring me a drink.
She ain't never treated me like company, Boone.
Oh, there's all sorts of company.
Invited company, "Who are them niggas over there?" company,
and, "Damn, woman, you got a thick ass" company.
I know this nigga didn't just
say something 'bout my mama --
Yeah, I sure did.
Now that I'm sober, when I see a thick ass,
I tend to take notice. Heh, heh.
Nigga, you better not.
Oooh-whoo!
♪♪
♪♪
Ms. Tudi, could you please tell us
what was so important for us to be here?
You are about to find out. Ha!
-What is she up to? -I don't know.
Hey! Come on in.
So, everyone, this is Phil Closterfawk.
Osterfawk.
You work for child support, don't you?
Now, Phil makes amazing TV shows.
And, get this, he wants us to star in one.
We get to fight some zombies?
Or swing swords with hot babes in tunics?
Nigga, what's your dumb ass know about a damn tunic?
Hey, I know they look good
with them skinny white bitches with sandals
on when they be flying on them dragons.
You know, as awesome as that sounds --
and that does sound awesome --
what I do is much more, uh, grounded. It's down-to-earth.
I don't know if you guys have seen
"Real Police Wives of Simi Valley,"
uh, "Hip Hop Hussies,"
"Lesbian Lockdown".
That's -- Hey. Hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo!
So he want us to make a ratchet-ass reality TV show?
-Hey, it sounds good. -Doesn't it, Boonie?
I mean, come on, Shalinka. Who can be more ratchet than us?
When it come to ratchet, we got that shit on lock.
Ms. Tudi, I don't even know what your ghetto,
criminally-minded ass is even talking about right now.
I agree with her. I'm not going to exploit myself
for the entertainment of the people
unless I get a chance to kill me some zombies!
Those shows make folks look stupid.
[ Crickets chirping ]
They also make people very rich.
By season three, you could each be making $20,000 per episode.
-What?! -$20,000. Tell 'em.
Mother fuck a zombie!
-Ohh! -[ Laughs ]
There's just one little hitch.
You need to convince Jesus to be on the show.
Damn. Aw. What the fuck Osterfawk?
Boonie: And we all get to live in a fly crib
where you basically mentor us on how to be better people.
That sound like the business I do already, Boonie.
But our crib ain't fly.
All I'm saying, man, is all these shows do
is just make people look stupid.
Jesus, I know this looks shady,
but if we do this show,
it could put Boonlinka and Boon-boon through college.
Oh! Mm-hmm.I don't want them to end up like their daddy.
Amen.
Hey, Nessa.
Hey, what you think about this whole reality-show thing?
Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Why are you asking her?
Because she's the only one that never asks for shit.
But she got a big nipple.
But she ain't got nothing else to gain.
That's why I know she gonna tell the truth.
Nessa, what you think about that, mama?
I know it can be some trifling nonsense,
but this may be good to get your Pops' word out in a big way.
I mean, you can't just be getting the word out
with sermons on the damn Mount no more, Jesus.
You need the media if you want to be heard.
Word. Word. That's right. That's right. Thank you.
I guess it would get Pops' word out way faster.
-That's right, man. -Yeah.
You know what? I'ma do it.
-God damn! -That's what we trying to say.
-Yes! -Hallelujah.
But only if it don't become the same ratchet bullshit.
I'm not doing ratchet.
At the first sign of ratchet-ivity, I'm out the door.
♪♪
I'm pretty sure this some ratchet bullshit, Ms. Tudi.
Jesus, listen, don't mess up my first day of co-producing.
I mean, you look like... the beautiful one.
No, I look like Prince's sofa, Ms. Tudi.
You look great. So let's go crazy! Right?
Come on, Jesus. Give it a chance.
Check out your new digs.
This is not "Purple Rain." This is purple pain.
But if the show is called "The Real Jesus of Compton,"
shouldn't it be shot in Compton?
Compton is a shit hole.
Yes, Compton is a shit hole that a whole lot of honest,
Pops-fearin' folks call home.
-Ugh. -Well, technically we are in Compton.
We're calling this Compton Manor.
Man...
I don't say this often, but holy shit.
Told you. I told you.
♪♪
I'd like to welcome you to "The Real Jesus of Compton."
For the next six weeks, we'll live together
while I, Jesus Christ the great and powerful,
will manifest a positive change for your lives.
Eh, Phil, what's up with this rock, man?
This rock is hurting my ass.
You got me sitting up here cross-legged.
That's Buddha shit. I ain't no biter, dawg.
I got my own style.
We can fix that in post. Keep going.
Let's "get busy" with the Spirit.
Uh, I just have one question, Jesus.
Who in the hell are these white folks?
Boonie, Lloyd, Shalinka, Ms. Tudi,
meet your new housemates --
Bruno, Louie, and Bambi.
Bambi? Jesus, I didn't come up here to shack up
with some stripper from the Peppermint Panther.
That is so wrong. I'm not a stripper.
Whatever. You got a stripper name.
I knew if that white woman said anything else,
there's gonna be a bitch fight.
In five, four, three, two...
Better a stripper name than a hoe name.
Shalinka? That's beyond hoe. That's all corner hoe.
...one.
Your great-grandmama a hoe, bitch.
Ho! Bitch fight!
Like I said, that lotus pose, that's Buddha's move.
[ Both grunting, screaming ]
-Oh, Jesus. -Get her, Shalinka.
Bitch fight! Black and white!
Put your boy legs to sleep.
[ Indistinct shouting ]
Black Jesus: Hey, look, dawg, I don't think
all these extra people are such a good idea.
And this robe is worse than the last one.
Come on, man.
This thing's so tight, I got to take baby steps.
Okay, well, we'll get it changed
after the next scene, I promise.
Please do. Thank you, man. Thank you. God bless.
♪♪
And one way to heal our problems is to share.
Like, I once had a problem with the Romans...
Problem? Shit.
They mother fuckers nailed me to a cross.
A cross, dawg!
And me with my forgivin', mother fucker ass, I asked Pops,
"Forgive them, for they knew not what they did."
♪♪
They punk asses knew.
...and Pops had a problem with an angel named Lucifer.
The Dark Lord! Better recognize.
I recognize, Louie.
But the question is, does the Dark Lord recognize you?
Honestly, my relationship with Satan
isn't so great right now.
I can, uh, feel him slipping from my life.
Good honesty. Thank you.
Good? This fool talking about Satan, Jesus.
But he's sharing. Ms. Tudi?
My problem is mother fuckers
that won't give me my proper respect.
It can hurt when mother fuckers don't respect us.
Mm-hmm.
But the best way to get mother fuckers to respect us
is to give mother fuckers respect.
-Hmm? -But we'll talk about that later.
Lloyd.
My problem is called "your Black ass."
-Mm. -I was a drunk,
but I was a happy drunk.
Then you healed me, and now I'm pissed.
I am pissed!
Great to hear. Boonie, do you care to share?
My problem is this rock-punishing bitch right here.
-Hmm. -And my problem, Jesus,
is this nigga there,
and this half-naked white heifer over here.
-Excuse me? -You heard me.
Get froggy.
I didn't say nothing when you was eyeballing
that Rico Suave-looking dude over there.
I didn't even notice him.
-Bruno here is a sex addict. -Bruno fucks anything.
Well, all right.
Bambi is also dealing with sexual issues.
I just can't stop screwing Black guys.
Hey, well, before you fix your problem, we should talk.
Absolutely.
What?!
You didn't see me throwing my panties
at the Egyptian lover over here.
Why not?
He says he fucks anything.
Family, we're getting away from this productive conversation.
I'll show y'all productive.
Lloyd, what are you --
[ All shriek ]
Ms. Tudi: Don't anybody want to see all that!
-Oh! Lloyd, what you doing? -Get away!
-Come back here, woman! -Get away! Away with you!
[ Indistinct shouting ]
Bruno no fuck that.
You know, I discovered, showing my ass and ding-a-ling,
which is a dick, to others
is the only thing that gives me the same high
as a fifth of Darby.
I can never unsee that shit. Never.
Eeh!
It was really big, and super black,
and there were these, like, little gray hairs.
But, I don't know. Maybe that's hot?
Ms. Tudi: Listen. Jesus, Jesus, just listen.
Listen. Just listen. Chill.
You don't look bad.
Not bad. Stupid, Ms. Tudi.
No, no, no. Not stupid. Unexpected.
Yeah, and unexpected is what they tune in for.
That's what makes people watch, you know what I'm saying?
Oh! What up, Ms. Tudi.
'Bout to get my nama-nastay on.
Who let this Yoga Bitch in here?
-Mm. -And a nice big inhale.
And on the exhale, through your core, pull up and back.
I can't breathe with this bitch's funky ass in my face!
There's about to be a bitch fight up in here.
You hear me, God?
[ Both grunt ]What now?
Bitch!
Bitch fight.
[ Both grunting, groaning ]
Bitch! I got to go?
Ms. Tudi was fighting, too!
Yeah, but only one of y'all pulled out the shank.
Look, Pops never meant for y'all
to have this type of junk in your trunk.
Wasn't in my trunk. It was in my hood.
'Cause my engine is hella good. And tight.
'Cause don't nobody want to ride that thing and loosen it up.
-Oh, people be riding. -Ladies, ladies! Please, please!
Look -- look, Teresa, I'm sorry.
This is the end of your enlightenment.
Teresa, thanks for playing,
but don't forget your parting gift.
Oh, no!
Sharing my Godly blessings with God's other children
is a high alcohol can't touch.
[ Laughs ]
I smell Emmy!
Previously on "The Real Jesus of Compton"...
Damn. It's supposed to be lights out!
-Come on, dice. -Show me that third leg, baby.
-Come on, man. -Yeah!
-Hey, work, Bruno. -Yeah. Mm.
[ Indistinct conversations ]
If it was up to me, all they asses to fiery pits, right now.
Yeah, baby. Come to mama, Bruno.
-Oh, my -- -Girl, yes.
[ Laughs ] Whoa. Okay, so that's good, right?
That's great.
I mean, Jesus wishing people to hell,
that kind of twist is money in the bank.
And speaking of twists --
Phil, I don't want to see that Yoga Bitch
pop back up here again.
Okay.
Don't nobody need to be this goddamn healthy.
Ooh, celery sticks!
How anyone's ass get that thick off some damn celery sticks?
I mean, I know what the fuck soy is.
Pops made it, but he also made pigs, chicken, fish.
And, little known fact, barbecue sauce.
Jesus, what is this?
They got me locked in this damn thing.
We can't have you constantly running around
showing your ass off to folks.
It wasn't my ass I was showing!
It's not a good look, man. Nobody want to see that shit.
-Morning, Jesus. -Good morning, Bambi.
Hey, tiger. When's show time?
Mm-hmm. How do you know what people want to see?
You can't go by her.
She's a sick and confused white girl
with a sick-and-confused white-girl appetite.
Oh, because she like Black dick, she's sick and confused.
I like pink toes. People need to share.
"You're crazy, and cuckoo-cuckoo."
Look, we'll talk about that on a one-on-one session, okay?
Now, Boonie, to begin our one-on-one session,
I'd just like for you to draw the face
of the person you have issues with
and tell them how you feel.
♪♪
What is that?
That's a witch's hat.
Well, go ahead and tell her how you feel.
Mama, why you always got to be so mean to a nigga?!
I had to sleep in that dark room,
and you wouldn't put on the light, Mama.
[ Grunting ]
[ Sighs ] Oh.
Did that help, or are you still mad at me?
No Christmas toys, mama?!
You're the reason I'm with Shalinka, mama!
Alcohol used to keep my bowels moving.
Since your meddle-some ass has made me sober,
I've been blocked up for weeks.
You ran daddy away 'cause he was late coming home.
You fucked my high-school coach,
and I still ain't get in the game.
[Sobbing] Oh!
Oh. Uh-oh.[ Flatulence ]
I might have to go soon.
I might have to go.
You know what this bitch be doing, Jesus?
I'm gonna need you to stop all that crying
and man the fuck up.
I need a black marker so I can draw her heart.
Phil, this ain't working out as planned, dawg.
Look, I believe in tough love, but in private.
I shouldn't have to tell no grown folks to man up on TV.
That's some Denzel Washington type shit.
You have to realize, people need you.
I mean, bad shit is happening.
Look.
[ Grunting, moaning ]
This happened here?
Yeah.
Man, I hate having to straighten fools out,
but I'm gonna have to straighten them fools out.
Great. Any chance for a miracle?
No.
Man, y'all been straight wildin' out up in this piece.
The sinning got to stop.
And, Boonie, I'm especially disappointed in your ass.
Check out this digital debauchery.
Get your big ass in here.
Oh, hey, well, uh,
sleep fucking is one of the issues
that I'm here to deal with.
Boonie, you so damn triflin'.
Shalinka, let she who is without trife cast the first stone.
Time to ride the whiteness.
Bruno fucks Shalaylay.
Well, I'ma tell you, both you heifers are nasty to me.
-Bitch fight. -Okay, cut!
-Cut this. -Bitch fight.
Ladies! Ladies!
There is a better way to settle this.
[ All cheering ]
Bitch fight.
[ All grunting ]
Come on, girl. Don't let her get you like that.
Bite her! Bite her!
I never thought Ms. Tudi and Shalinka
would agree to some bullshit like this.
They didn't until I offered them a bump in the money.
Fight! Whoo-whee!
-Jesus! -Let go, fool!
♪♪
Phil: What do you mean you're quitting?
I'm done, man.
Pops did not put me here to be some generic-ass prince
in a Dave Chappelle sketch gone bad.
Okay, well, you're gonna lose your friends
a lot of money, buddy.
Man fuck your money, Osterfawk.
-Jesus, just listen -- -Oh, come on --
Jesus -- you lettin' your robe.
Jes-- can I just -- -Jesus! Please!
-Gosh. -So, hey, check it out.
I think I know a way to chill dude out.
Hey, man. Good luck and God bless with all this.
I'm out.
[ Inhales deeply ]
I know that smell.
That's that world-famous Ms. Emma's fish.
What's happening, Nessa? I see you, girl.
Got you one.
'Bout time somebody slid through
with some fine cuisine to this joint.
And look here, Jesus.
I just want to say that we need you.
This whole thing falls apart if we lose you.
I don't know, Ms. Tudi.
It's getting too ratchet up in here, man.
It's on me, okay? Let me try to fix it.
You got to fix it by no crazy makeup, no emasculation.
I'm au naturel, man. -Done.
And no sexually-exploitative mud fights.
The ladies got to be respected.
Whatever you want, that's what happens, okay?
Just, um, give me one second.
I'm gonna tip and pay her, and then I'll be back.
Get all your money.
Damn! A $50?
Yeah, maybe more if you say yes.
Are you crazy?
I ain't fucking your pasty white ass.
Hey, Jesus. -Wait, no, no.
Boy, I'm --
See, I'll fillet your ass like them damn catfish.
Nessa, what I want to do
is pay you to be on the show.
All you have to do is ask Jesus for a miracle.
What miracle?
Phil: I can see that you love Jesus,
and that you want this show to be a success
so that he can spread his good word.
But unfortunately I need a big miracle
to put the show over the top.
Let's all welcome Nessa to our family.
-Whoo! -Nessa!
Hey. My cousin.
And though I've only known her for a short time,
I must say that I don't know
that there's anything wrong with her.
Nessa, do you have any problems you would like to deal with?
[ Birds chirping ]
I mean, I guess...
I'd...like these to be even.
You sure about that?
I'm sure.
Okay. Let's see what Pops has to say.
Wait. Wait, stop. Stop.
I -- I don't know if I found God,
or maybe I just really like lopsided titties,
'cause those are dope as hell,
but I heard that little sleazy producer right there
say that if she didn't do this,
your show would never get on the air.
No. No! That's all wrong.
Sure, I wanted a miracle, but so did she.
Let's see what Pops has to say, 'cause He's the all-knowing.
[ Sighs ]
[ Angelic harp plays ][ Chuckles ]
Good news, Phil. Pops says that miracle is a go.
Get your money, pimp.
Roll on this. Get this shot.
[ Chuckles ]
[ Jingling ]
[ Air hissing ]Aah!
What the fuck is this?!
What is this?
-Oh, yeah! -Big pasty-ass titties.
Damn! Nice and balanced, too.
What the hell, Jesus?
Pops said you'd get a miracle. He didn't say what kind.
I-I can't go around like this!
I might be able to straighten that out.
Just let me holler at Pops.
But I'ma need to run this show my way.
♪♪
♪♪
And Pops wants you to know that no matter how fucked up,
how triflin', or how ratchet you may be,
His love is everlasting.
♪♪
Well, there it is, there. How y'all love that, huh?
Jesus, I think that's the most boring-ass shit
I've ever seen. -Really, Lloyd?
You know, all that hate don't look good on you.
But I know my man Boonie know what's happening.
Boonie, what you think about that, player? Huh?
Oh, he's ecstatic. Can't you tell?
You know what, we was 'bout to make some paper.
Huh, 'Linka? -Absolutely.
We was about to stack some cash.
Long money. Right? But, no.
Once again, our Lord and Savior,
Mr. Goody-Two-Shoes fuck it up.
Fuck it up. -I don't know, Ms. Tudi.
Actually, I might have saved one.
You could have saved all!
[ All arguing indistinctly ]
♪♪
♪♪
♪♪
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