Leprechaun in the Hood

Synopsis: He's been in the country side, he's been downtown, he's been to Las Vegas, he's even been in space, now that evil Leprechaun is in DA HOOD! Three young rap artists are looking for a break. They need money to buy some music equipment so they can go to Las Vegas and enter a contest. They meet up with a local pimp named Mack Daddy who agrees to "hook them up", but later declines. The rappers want to get even with him so one night they break into Mack's place and steal a lot of his jewelry, gold, and even the medallion from an ugly looking statue. Shouldn't have done that! Because without the medallion, the statue transforms into the Leprechaun, who goes on a killing spree looking for his missing gold, once again! And the song says it all, "there's nothing' scarier than a Lep' in the hood!"
Director(s): Rob Spera
Production: Trimark
  1 nomination.
Rotten Tomatoes:
90 min

Death to he

who sets a leprechaun free.

Steal his gold,

it will corrupt your soul, you see.

For many a moon,

the legend has grown.

Death toll increases,

solution unknown.

Beware the evil wanderer,

in search of his loot.

Lest ye suffer the wrath

of his golden flute.

Flee while you can,

the future's not good...

For no one is safe

from a lep in the hood.

This map you bought

was bullshit.

Man, it got to be

down here somewhere.

Do you see any gold, fool?

The burger's probably still good.

The burger's probably good, huh?

What you talking about, man?

What the f***?

Holy sh*t!

You midget Midas motherf***er.

Yo, Slug, look at this sh*t.

Oh, sh*t.

That's it.

It's all here, baby.

That's all I want, right here.

You collect the rest

of this stuff, man.

Now we're moving on up

to the East Side.

Yeah, that's it.

That's all I needed.

Ah... free at last.

Free at last.

Thank God almighty.

Free at last.


Come on, come on.

I'll knock you...

Stealing me gold

is a sure way to grow old.

Now me little room

will become your tomb.

Got your ass.

Motown, here I come.

Ain't nothin' in this world

gonna be for free...

Everybody's comin' up,

but not like me.

Somebody's gotta win,

but somebody's gotta lose...

Live your life right,

good choices choose.

Let no one

try and hold me back...

I'm rippin' up the stage,

Butch rippin' up the track.

Postmaster P, that's me,

you see...

The P's for Positive,

and that's my guarantee.

I got no time

for negativity...

Smooth is my groove,

and fresh my recipe.

Postmaster P, y'all,


A positive flow to your speakers

is what I'm bringin', see.

The crew and me,

we all got unity...

We keep the crowd hyped,


Oh, sh*t!

Damn, what the hell happened?

What the f*** y'all did

to the stage?

Too much ammonia?

Not enough nitrogen?

So, whuddup wit' the gig?

We on the bill?

Don't worry about the bill.

You'll get that.

This is our shot out, man.

If we win this contest, we're going

to the Vegas Hip-Hop Cafe.

We're talking video promo,

publishing rights...

record deals. All that sh*t.

Only record deal you're getting

is with the the L.A.P.D.

If you get your sh*t right,

I might give you another audition.

Now get the f*** out of here.

Sh*t, I almost get my ass

blown to bits by a virgin.

Shut up, fool. I should have never

told you I was a virgin.

I know you don't know nothing

about no p*ssy...

but I thought you knew

about that nitrogen trimesteride.

That's nitrogen tri-iodide, fool!


It's an iodine/ammonia compound.

Fool, you're going to

wind up in a compound.

The hell with it,

we f***ed up.

See, Stray, you're thinking

with a spirit of failure.

You really do need to hook up

some Tony Robbins.

That big, white

goofy-lookin' mo'fo'?

Always talking about

if a tree fall in the bathroom...

take time to stop

and smell the forest...

That ain't right.

See, our unconscious beliefs

control our behavior.

Only through daily positive,

positive affirmation can we overcome.

Yeah, well,

affirmate this, motherfuckers.

If we don't get

this equipment fixed...

we ain't winning no contest...

we ain't going to no Vegas

and we ain't ever leaving Compton.

The guy said we could

audition again, right?

What'd it take

to get our sh*t fixed?

This sh*t?

A whole lot of money.

We're f***ed.

We just got to think positive.

Jimi Hendrix.

The real Jimi Hendrix.

Boy, where you get this guitar?

It was my Uncle Junior's.

Yeah, yeah,

he got it from Jimi Hendrix.

Yeah, that's right,

when they used to play together.

Your Uncle Junior

used to play with Jimi?

At Psychedela-Palooza in 1971.

Yeah, that's right.

That's, that's Jimi's guitar.


I never heard of that one before.


Wait a minute. '71?

Didn't Jimi die in 1970?

No, no,

that was Paul McCartney.

So, what'cha give us

for this piece of music history?

I'll give you about five seconds

to get out of my shop.

Come in here bullshitting

with this piece of crap.

Hey, man, ain't nobody

bullshitting you.

Stray Bullet...

Boy, you ain't no gangster.

And Postmaster P.

What is that sh*t?

You ain't ever been

in the military.

It's Postmaster P, 'cause I deliver

a positive message, that's all.

Positive message?

- Yeah.

Punk Ass is more like it.

And Butch...

Boy, you need to get yourself

some p*ssy...

before you blow off your dick

f***ing with those chemicals.

Now, get up out of my shop.

This ain't no charity.

How much you give us

for it, Chow?

Is this Jimi signature for real?

Yeah, who else you know

signs his name like that?

I look stupid?

Everybody know Jimi die in 1970.

You try bullshit Chow?

Get the f*** out.

Damn, Chow.

Come on, man.

Hey, don't touch.

Don't touch.

You leave Chow's store.

Go on!

Hip and Hop

your black ass home.

Hula, hula, go, go, go.

What are we supposed to do now?

Rob somebody?

No, man,

we ain't robbin' nobody.

There goes Mack Daddy O'Nasses

right there.

Why do they call him


He don't look Greek to me.

He was a pimp, man.

Back in the day,

Mack Daddy owned asses.

So now he's got his own

little hip-hop thing goin'.

Yeah-gangster hip-hop.

Man, b*tches and ho's

ain't all my man knows.

If it ain't the Milli Vanilli

of Compton rap.

I heard you guys were sampling

chipmunk tracks now.

The machine broke, man,

that ain't no chipmunk track.

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Doug Hall

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Submitted on August 05, 2018

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