First Match

---

Don't touch my sh*t!

I said, don't touch my sh*t!

- Get your trash out of my house!

- Yo.

Anything break, I'm gonna

Ronda Rousey your fat ass!

- Nobody scared of you, Mo.

- Shut the f*** up.

All the sh*t I do for your ass.

Miss Jones, mind your business.

Thank you, Miss Jones.

You wonder why you keep

getting thrown out of foster homes.

- Whatever.

- F***ing with a man twice your age.

I ain't touched your fat boyfriend.

You grown, right? You a woman?

Goddamn it, be one.

Stop throwing my sh*t out the window.

I ain't playing with you.

- Your ass 'bout to learn.

- Whatever.

Don't want to hear you crying,

coming back around.

Ain't nobody coming back nowhere!

F*** your house!

Slut ass.

Dumb b*tch.

Social worker pressed me so hard

to rat on you.

What you tell her?

Ain't nothing to tell.

You don't have to buy me stuff.

But you're like... my step-daddy, right?

Nadge done ruined half my sh*t.

I could use some new stuff.

Yeah, you should do it.

I don't have no money to go out.

Think it's cute

ringing everybody's bells this late?

Yes, she's sorry.

F*** that b*tch.

I'd use the belt on that one, Lucila.

You gotta teach these kids respect

if they gonna live here.

Here one day

and you're already causing trouble.

You wake the baby.

Monique.

Monique.

Monique, you no sleep all day.

I have to get to work.

Time to go to school!

Come on.

ndale.

Ay...

Imposible.

Omari.

That's all you got? Come on.

All right, let's go.

Where you going?

Omari.

- You're like a little girl.

- Hold up.

- What's up?

- Nadge kicked me out.

- When?

- Yesterday.

Help me get my stuff

before she steals something.

Omari. You got something better to do?

I'll be done at five.

- Gotta go now.

- Hey.

Five.

- You here to wrestle?

- Please.

All you ever practice is doubles.

Sh*t's mad predictable.

Your coach is wack, yo.

Your problem ain't even in the lift.

You're not getting your shoulder in

close enough. You gotta go deep.

Tell me how he rock that much bling

and not be locked up.

- What'd Nadge throw you out for?

- She a crazy b*tch.

She's jealous 'cause Hassan

paid for my nails.

Ain't my fault she ain't learned

how to please her man.

- You got a new foster family yet?

- Whatever.

Soon as my dad get out,

I'll stay with him.

Wait, give me that.

What are you doing?

- Who that?

- Omari.

Get out of here.

Mo don't live here no more.

- I left my math book in her room.

- Is she with you?

No.

I... I need it to do my homework.

- Hurry the hell up.

- The f*** out of the way!

Oh, you f***ing b*tch!

Your punk ass through!

Okay, Mo.

- You wanna play?

- Mo, hurry up.

What the f***?

Uh-huh.

Trespassing.

Tilden...

- Who you calling?

- The police, that's who.

Why you wanna do that?

This slut done broke

in my house, Hassan.

Hang up that phone before I smack you.

Yo.

Mad people be trying for the Powerball.

Don't they know black people

don't never win real money?

Sh*t, if I won...

I'd buy me one of them big-ass TVs.

Surround sound and all that sh*t.

Imagine Halo on that.

- A TV?

- Yeah.

I get that much money, I'm getting

a house and getting the f*** out.

Where you gonna go?

Everyone you know is here.

That much money, you can get a house,

move to Miami and be on the beach.

- Eating oranges all day and sh*t.

- Oh, yeah, oranges.

You'll be a millionaire

and you gonna be peeling oranges.

- Please, you gonna be peeling for me.

- Yeah, all right.

Yo.

Can I get a lick?

I don't know. Can I?

How about you give me your number?

1800-fine-ass-ho. What's up?

Yo, Omari, where you going?

Don't make me go back

to that Spanish lady house.

Chill with me. Omari!

- Gotta be up early for a run.

- You said we chilling at your place.

- You owe me a rematch.

- Watch where you going!

Sh*t.

Fine, one rematch, but I'm not...

- What up, O?

- What's up, Darrel?

You the big man now, huh?

How's your mom?

She good.

Yeah? She still dancing?

Yeah.

She don't tell us where, though.

It's better that way.

I'm gonna go.

I got practice in the morning.

Yeah? What for?

Wrestling, actually.

- No sh*t. What you weigh, 130?

- Yeah.

But I'ma drop to 120.

I'ma dominate at 120.

- Best correct your footwork.

- Whatever.

How you gonna say whatever

when you be tripping on your feet?

Think 'cause your mom buy you

new sneakers, you gonna make varsity?

Take out all of the glass?

- Yeah.

- Good.

You no want if we get fined.

You got a job? You work here?

Better get your asses home.

Ya'll looking for trouble out this late.

- Let me get your number.

- Ain't got one yet.

Let me give you mine.

All right, I'll see you.

When he get out?

Mind your damn business.

- What'd I say?

- "I'm gonna dominate at 120."

You wouldn't even be on a team

if it wasn't for me.

Why you mad for?

You supposed to be happy your pops is out.

Mo?

You don't see me working?

- Why didn't you come find me?

- I been busy.

Can I come live with you?

You lost your mind?

I can get a job.

- No.

- I can help pay for the rent.

No. I said no!

Sh*t.

What you need me for anyway?

Look at you. You a grown woman now.

You do your thing, I'll do mine.

We see each other round the way.

I talked to him. He got a job now.

- Like, a real job.

- Have a seat.

You can find out where he live, right?

First we need to discuss

what happened at Nadge's.

- I had to get the rest of my sh*t.

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes