House Party 2 Page #3

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for something, um...

Selena. I'm just browsing.

Well, if there's anything

in particular you need...

anything at all,

don't hesitate to come see me.

I won't.

That was real cute.

Now hook me up, man.

Bilal, I cannot keep giving you

your own personal discount.

Play, you ain't looking

at the big picture, man.

I need these records, 'cause

I'm working on some scratches...

for our demo session.

What do you mean

"our" demo session?

Let's check out

the psychology department.

Ooh, this one sounds good.

"Social Psychology

of Black Awareness.

"Psych 222."

God, it is so hard

to figure out what to do...

What are you doing?

I'm trying to get a closer look

at the catalog.

Yeah, right. You're not even

paying attention.

Am too.

Look. "Psych 100.

"Human Sexuality."

I hope that's not the only thing

you're interested in.

Of course not.

I'm interested in your mind

as well as your body.

Now, you need to put

a check by that, uh...

humping and hauling course.

That's Hubble and Hawking.

Whatever. Check that one.

Get off, get off, get off.

Stop playing.

We have to be serious now.

Damn, Play, don't you know sh*t

about the music business?

Look, when a MC cuts a record...

the DJ is the producer...

because the DJ...

is the one who made

your sorry ass what it is...

from the motherfucking giddyap.

Now hook me up, thank you.

Nice sales pitch.

Twenty dollars.

Twenty dollars? I thought

you was gonna hook me up.

Bilal, for fifteen cuts...

I should be charging your ass

a house note...

and would you get

from around my counter?

I'll bust that ass.

I don't think so.

Get these boxes out.

I'm Mrs. Deevers.

I'm here for the job.

How you doing, Mrs. Deevers?

The job requires

a lot of heavy lifting.

Oh, it's not for me.

It's for my boys.

Your boys?

Bring your ass in here!

Come on in here now!

Yo, look!

Right now, here.

That's that punk Play.

Where's Kid?

These three rap stars,

they got a rap group...

and if they could work

in your shop here...

maybe some big-time producer

would give them a break.

Oh, they got the tapes.

Do that rap thing

y'all do at home.

Yo, Mama,

we ain't auditioning for him.

Not this punk.

We ain't auditioning for him.

I said do the rap!

All right.

Kick the rap, man.

On and on, on,

and on, on, and on

Like hot butter on...

Say what?

Popcorn

Dibby dibby die, so-socialize

Clean out your ears,

open up your

Eyes

Now, well, maybe so

I don't think so

Well, funky ass

Mmm

What up with that?

That's kind of wack.

That didn't even rhyme.

Yo, man, y'all be...

Excuse me, Mrs. Deevers.

I'm sorry, but the job

has been filled.

Right, Bilal?

You got twenty dollars

I can borrow?

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