ATL Page #2
Yes, yes, and yes.
Oh, my God, I love poetry.
I write in my diary every day.
Oh, really?
Let me kick something for you.
She sits there
Pain filling the back of her eyes...
Forcing them to leak...
So all I need to do is
I need to get your digits.
Your daddy ain't around, is he?
Even though her tolerance
Has reached its peak...
Now, look here, when you call me,
don't even trip, okay?
If a lady answer the phone,
that's my mama.
She staying with me
because she going through some things.
She's so soft...
She could have been
The spokesperson for cotton...
You know, that's just little things
that I like do to...
...because I like to throw stuff in the air.
These guys don't know anything
about poetry.
They're not really cultured.
- Hey, what's up, Esquire, man?
- Man...
- Hey, man.
- Will you all come on? Excuse me.
- Can't you see I'm over here-
- You reciting poetry and sh*t.
- Come on, man.
- Damn.
- Can we go please? Please?
- Hey, man, scoot over, man. Please?
You skinny enough. Scoot over, man!
You always sit in the front.
Sit in the back.
What the hell wrong with you,
Tiger Hood?
Black Nicklaus?
I think I miss home or whatever,
but, yo, it's so country out here, man.
It's like the flies-
Why are there so many flies out here?
- Man, I know you not gonna get into this.
- For real.
Okay, so why is there a rat on
every corner in New York City?
you call me "shorty"?
"Yo, shorty, shorty. " I'm taller than you.
Let me ask you this, then.
In New York City, why y'all say,
"Yo, son," after every sentence?
- I'm not your kid. I'm not your child.
- Right.
Why I gotta be your son?
- Money?
- B?
I call you "sun" because you shine like one.
- You feel me?
- Yeah, that was real sentimental, thanks.
- Oh, hell, yeah.
- Thank you.
- Thank you.
- Thank you.
- Y'all need anything else?
- No, we all right.
- Actually, let me get some iced tea?
- Sweet or unsweet?
- Sweet.
- She choosing, huh, Brooklyn?
Shut up.
Brooklyn! Oh, good Lord!
That ass fatter than
a swamp possum with the mumps.
- Okay, you got a point.
- See what I'm saying?
That's country.
Y'all get y'all cap and gowns yet?
- Oh, yeah, I got mine.
- I know you do.
Yo, you sure you graduating, Teddy?
Like, come on, for real, B,
just give it up. Like, come on, Teddy.
That ain't funny, man. I'm trying.
- Wait a minute.
- I'm trying.
Ain't you about
in the 14th grade now, dog?
Yeah, I'm in the same class
with your mama.
By the way, I ain't seen her lately.
You gotta tell her to come in and
check in with Daddy at the house.
I need my money on time.
Translation
Translate and read this script in other languages:
Select another language:
- - Select -
- 简体中文 (Chinese - Simplified)
- 繁體中文 (Chinese - Traditional)
- Español (Spanish)
- Esperanto (Esperanto)
- 日本語 (Japanese)
- Português (Portuguese)
- Deutsch (German)
- العربية (Arabic)
- Français (French)
- Русский (Russian)
- ಕನ್ನಡ (Kannada)
- 한국어 (Korean)
- עברית (Hebrew)
- Gaeilge (Irish)
- Українська (Ukrainian)
- اردو (Urdu)
- Magyar (Hungarian)
- मानक हिन्दी (Hindi)
- Indonesia (Indonesian)
- Italiano (Italian)
- தமிழ் (Tamil)
- Türkçe (Turkish)
- తెలుగు (Telugu)
- ภาษาไทย (Thai)
- Tiếng Việt (Vietnamese)
- Čeština (Czech)
- Polski (Polish)
- Bahasa Indonesia (Indonesian)
- Românește (Romanian)
- Nederlands (Dutch)
- Ελληνικά (Greek)
- Latinum (Latin)
- Svenska (Swedish)
- Dansk (Danish)
- Suomi (Finnish)
- فارسی (Persian)
- ייִדיש (Yiddish)
- հայերեն (Armenian)
- Norsk (Norwegian)
- English (English)
Citation
Use the citation below to add this screenplay to your bibliography:
Style:MLAChicagoAPA
"ATL" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 17 Apr. 2024. <https://www.scripts.com/script/atl_3222>.
Discuss this script with the community:
Report Comment
We're doing our best to make sure our content is useful, accurate and safe.
If by any chance you spot an inappropriate comment while navigating through our website please use this form to let us know, and we'll take care of it shortly.
Attachment
You need to be logged in to favorite.
Log In