FADE UP:
ON;

2 EXT. BROWN HOUSE - COMPTON - NIGHT 2

A bucket pulls up in front of a shitty-looking BROWN HOUSE

with ugly bars on the windows and doors. A rusted swing-set

leans sideways on the dirt/grass they call a front lawn.

SUPERIMPOSE:
COMPTON, CA 1986

Inside the car is ERIC WRIGHT, 21, but you know him as -

SUPERIMPOSE:
ERIC WRIGHT AKA EAZY-E

A man who is completely in his element -- comfortable and

poised, ready for anything.

He hops out of the car, moves quickly to the TRUNK -- pops it

open and reaches inside. With an electric screwdriver, Eazy

unscrews a CERWIN-VEGA sub-woofer. Grabs a bulging BROWN BAG

out of the speaker... and a 9mm -- SLAMS the trunk.

ON THE ROOF, a LOOKOUT clocks Eazy as he walks up to the

front door of the decrepit house...

Eazy KNOCKS BY CODE. A dude, TONE (20s), opens a slat in the

door. Gauges Eazy, EYES SKEPTICAL.

TONE:

Who is it?

EAZY:

Eric! Man, we been through this

shit a thousand times.

Multiple DEADBOLTS UNLOCK and an irritated Eazy enters -

EAZY (CONT’D)

What’s the use to having this dumb

ass knock if I gotta tell you my

name anyway?

2.

3 INT. BROWN HOUSE - MINUTES LATER 3

It’s not what you’d call “cozy.” The carpet is torn up,

stained, cigarette-burnt. Walls covered in TAGS. A PITBULL

stares menacingly from the kitchen.

In addition to Eazy and Tone, there are THREE other people

spread around the room: one GIRL lounges on a vinyl couch,

eyes glazed; another girl, TASHA, loudly SCRAPES soul food

onto the pitbull’s plate; and a JITTERY DUDE steady keeps an

EYE out the WINDOW, tense, occasionally clocking --

EAZY spreads the CONTENTS of the BROWN BAG before them on a

long TABLE:
three FREEZER BAGS each containing 10 ounces. He

looks up, ALL BUSINESS.

EAZY:

Now where the money at?

TONE:

Man, you heard what happen? My best

runner got cracked. They sent his

young ass to Y.A. --

EAZY:

The fuck that got to do with me?

Tone turns to Tasha in the kitchen, nods.

TONE:

Tasha, get this dude a 40.

TASHA opens the fridge, grabs a 40oz. -

EAZY:

Do I look thirsty to you?

(beat)

Where my ends at?

-- hands it to Tone who CRACKS it open. Drinks...

TONE:

Why you so ruthless, Eric, damn!

You don’t want nothin’ to drink?

What you want --

(re:
the girls)

-- you want some pussy?

EAZY:

Yep. But not from these strawberry

bitches you got right here.

3.

TONE:

So you just gonna disrespect my

house like that, Cuz?

EAZY:

Dumb ass, this a dope house! It's

already disrespected.

JITTERY DUDE:

(re:
Eazy’s drugs)

Well fuck it then -- You gonna have

to let us hold on to that right

there.

ON THE COUCH, the GIRL grabs a SAWED-OFF SHOTGUN FROM UNDER A

PILLOW. Levels it at Eazy, face grimaced, hard, strung out.

EAZY:

Yeah, do what you gotta do --

‘Cause I got my homies parked

across the street from your momma's

house. I don't show up. They show

out...

Eazy just stares right back at them. The tension’s like a

pressure cooker about to burst. Until -

A WHISTLE echoes in from outside (THE LOOKOUT) -

Suddenly, everyone notices a deep RUMBLING coming from

outside. Jittery Dude steps back from the window, eyes wide -

JITTERY DUDE:

Oh, shit --

Because there’s a MASSIVE ARMORED VEHICLE rolling down the

street toward them. 6 TONS of steel, with a 14-foot BATTERING

RAM mounted on the front. LAPD emblazoned on the side.

JITTERY DUDE (CONT’D)

Fuckin’ Batter-Ram!

Everyone in the room FLIES into action, STASHING the WEAPONS

and the MONEY into hidden STASH SPOTS all over the HOUSE:

Behind fake-panel LIGHT SWITCHES, hidden HATCHES beneath the

FLOORBOARDS, in a fake-panel inside the FRIDGE. It’s some

serious MACGYVER SHIT.

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