The Get Down

Mylene, Mylene

Mylene, Mylene

My butterscotch queen

This summer

Could you be my girl And I could be your king?

I beg your pardon

But I been loving you Since first day of kindergarten

I blush when you see me I cry when you sing

'Cause when you sing, it's like...

It's like how red velvet feel

That's how you sing

I pray to God you ain't burning up my eggs, boy.

Ooh!

Aww!

Whoo! Whoo! Whoo!

You ain't got but one responsibility in this house.

-Not fucking up my breakfast. -I'm sorry.

Pshh...

"When you sing

-It's like how red velvet feel" -Come on, man. Get off.

"That's what it's like when you sing

Tender, like crying tears"

Give me that.

Leave him alone, Leon.

Morning, Queen Sheba.

Zeke.

- Keep your head out the clouds please? . That's my point exactly.

Which reminds me, later on, me and you gonna have a conversation

about the damn toothpaste.

What conversation you need to have with my nephew about toothpaste?

Mylene, when you sing

Boy go through toothpaste like he work at Colgate.

- When you render your splendor - Tumbleweed on his head.

-Bathroom look like a pubic rain forest. -I surrender to the tender you engender

His mama would not want his father figure going easy on him.

Father figure?

- Rasping gasping love song - Come on, now.

Don't get me started on the toilet tissue.

Boy must have the cleanest drawers in the Bronx.

-One of us gotta be clean. -Whoa, Shakespeare.

Enjoy your last day of school,

'cause come summertime, I'll make a working man out that ass.

Take a shower, Leon.

So, I think that was the one, right?

-Mylene. -What?

My God. That was--

-Did it sound professional? -That was superflicious.

What's "superflicious"?

-"Superflicious"? -Yeah.

"Superflicious" is super plus official plus delicious.

That's not a real word.

It is if I say it is.

So, after school we take this direct to Marrakesh Records, right?

-It don't work like that. -How you know?

They don't accept submissions.

I looked it up.

Caught red-handed.

You know Daddy don't allow anything but church music in here.

Don't tell Papi , please.

Only if you hand out the pamphlets.

Coming.

- Good morning, my sweet angel. - Good morning, Dad.

Come on, son. You missing spots over here.

We're gonna be late for school, Dad.

No, Boo-Boo, you make yourselves late.

Wait to the last minute to do your morning chore.

Ooh!

- That's jive. - No, that's jive.

Come on. This ain't Little House on the Prairie.

-Dizzee's got a point, Dad. -No, he don't.

'Cause that there is my little house.

And this here is my little salon.

And that patch of sidewalk, that's my little prairie.

Less than a hundred years ago, the Bronx was all prairie.

Winston! What are you rattling on about?

What's going on? You gonna make the boys late for school.

How am I supposed to teach them discipline if you undermine me?

I have to go to the writer's bench.

- All right. - Don't be late.

They're like, "Who you gonna give your demo to?"

-I don't know. Different people. -Maybe I could help.

Smoke this joint with me?

Mylene, I know you enough to know you got a plan.

-Do you really think it was any good? -Yeah, Mylene.

It's better than the original.

-Misty Holloway? -Yeah.

Come on. Be serious, Zeke.

You sounded as good as she does on that, remix you always talking about.

-Carlo Pakoussa? -Yeah.

I wish.

Zeke's about to pop the big question to Mylene.

And tonight we all gonna see Star Wars.

Mylene ain't seeing no Star Wars.

And tell Zeke not to waste his breath 'cause my girl got big plans.

Her life's about to change. She gonna turn him down flat.

Mylene, can I tell you something?

When you sing, it's like...

how red velvet feel. That's how you sing.

Like how butterscotch taste.

Warmed up though, like how they serve it sometimes?

You sounded like that.

You're tender, like...

like crying tears tender.

And at the end, right there at the finale...

Damn, holy shit. Your roar is a motherfucker, girl.

Yeah, you talk good.

Ain't talk when it's true.

God. I'm sorry.

We don't do this no more.

But we could.

-No. -But it's not like we do it all the time.

Or ever, really.

-Ay, bendito, don't be difficult. -But--

What are you doing tonight, for real? We can go see Star Wars together. Hey.

I want you to be my girl.

No. I got plans.

-What you talking about? -Okay. Can you keep a secret?

Yeah.

Okay, so tonight, Regina's getting me and the girls into Les Inferno.

Les Inferno? Are you crazy?

- Gangsters be there and shit! - Shut up.

I'm sleeping at Yolanda's 'cause it's easier to sneak out.

DJ Malibu is spinning there tonight.

There's a dance competition. The winner gets to have dinner with Malibu.

That's what the tape's for. I'm gonna win the dance-off,

get him the tape so he can listen to it and say:

"Shit, she's the next Donna Summer."

And then sign me to his label.

That is so stupid.

Okay, I'll tell her.

- You're stupid. - Mylene!

Ven aqui! Daddy wants to see you.

I told him you were singing devil music and he said--

Thy voice shall only be lifted to the glory of God.

But, Papi , Ezekiel and I were just preparing for Sunday's service.

-Okay? -Sorry, I--

Should I ask Ezekiel which hymn you were singing?

That's not what your sister told me.

This is the last time you do this.

What you gonna do? Sucker.

Your sister said that you made a tape singing that dirty Donna Summer's music?

Actually, Dad, it's Misty Holloway.

- So, it was disco? - Mylene!

Yo, Ra.

- You are in my church! - Bye, Mylene.

Straighten out or get out of my house.

Get the fuck out.

-Yo, Zeke! Still ain't getting none? -Mind your own.

I thought you was smart? It ain't never gonna happen!

You are grounded again.

You will not be sleeping at Yolanda's tonight.