Black Jesus

What the heaven?

Previously on Black Jesus...

Oh, my sweet lord.

- Hey, mama. - I made these for you.

Chocolate mint pistachio with a dash of sea salt.

All right.

Those are for Jesus, fat-ass. You're a fat, bad-luck-having,

lazy nigga like your father.

My pit bull getting ready to have puppies. And I wasn't there when my kids

was born, but I'm gonna be there for my bitch.

So what was the big emergency last night?

These idiots broke into the Compton

boarding stables last night. And then they left the gates

open, and three or four horses got out.

Oh, we've been getting calls from all over Compton.

Go over to Fish's house, look around and find my shoes.

Sounds dangerous.

- What do I get? - Macaroni and cheese, nigga.

I go get them shoes,

I want three nights in the bed. You sleep on the couch.

I think I'm gonna start my three days right now.

What is the thread count in these sheets?

Oh, peace.

Nigga can't have no luxury

around this mother

Attention all complex residents! All residents to the courtyard!

The hell is your problem, man?

Yeah, you too, convict. Over here.

Got some tragic news. Had a little act of vandalism

last night. Somebody broke into my

priceless, mint-condition Oldsmobile cutlass supreme.

- My cutlass! - Oh, I can't believe this.

That's terrible.

Hey, maybe somebody was trying to air that bitch out

from all that fruity-ass, warm vanilla bean body splash you be wearing.

And maybe some bitch-ass

parolee did it because he was bored 'cause he ain't have shit of his own.

Huh, yeah.

And I want to find out who with my car.

And if anybody got any information, you bring it

directly to me, okay? Don't go to the police.

Bring it to me. I'm gonna handle it personally.

I got some information.

You know who broke in my car?

Yeah, man. I was in the van all night.

- I seen that shit, dawg. - So you know who broke my window?

Yeah.

But you know I can't tell you, Vic, 'cause I'm like you, brah.

I ain't no snitch.

Well, I ain't the police, so technically, you ain't snitching.

Look, Vic, you and I both know that if I gave

up the ghost on who broke in your car, you gonna be out here

trying to whoop somebody's ass, man, and don't nobody need to

- get hurt, brah. - Hey, you mess with my

car, somebody got to get hurt.

Pop's worried about you, man. You need to learn how to let

some of that stuff go, man. You gonna mess around and bust a

blood vessel or something, man.

Me and you got a problem. You know what that is?

The word respect. Yeah, you don't respect me.

Oh, come on, Vic. He just messing with you.

He don't know who did it. You know he's on that stuff...

that lean, that codeine, them mollies, PCP, LBJ, JFK.

I respect you, Vic.

No, you don't. But you will.

Hey, bother, what's up?

- What's up man? - Mm-hmm, that's right. Take it all.

I want all of this shit right here, I want it out of my house.

Yes, Ms. Tudi.

And you... I can't even look at you.

Mom, I'm telling you, I paid!

Tell the folks that's about to carry your deadbeat ass off to jail.

That's who you tell, 'cause I don't want to hear it.

Hey, baby. How you doing?

You know that this bitch is out here trying to catch him having shit?

Hiding in the bushes, taking pictures.

Oh, hell no.

Unh-unh.

Hey, jee, I know I messed up on a lot of stuff, man.

But, you know, I'm telling you, I look out for my kids, man.

Man, I feel you, my brother.

Know what I'm saying? I knew the day would come when

she would try to destroy my dream.

Yet somehow that didn't stop you from knocking her up twice.

Shut up.

You the only light-skinned girl got to wait in line at the club.

Hey, Boon, don't even trip, man.

These is only worldly possessions.

That ain't your future, man. That's your past.

Your babies is your future, dawg.

Just like his father.

Just a fat, stupid, lazy deadbeat like his father, down

to that ugly-ass track suit. And, by the way, ain't never

- seen a track a day in his life. -

- Hey, Ms. Tudi right. -

Do you have any idea how much product I move out of this house?

Last thing I need is for that

bitch and her attorney to be snooping around here.

Mom, that little bit of weed you selling, ain't

nobody tripping on that. And I'm telling you, Shalinka is

- not taking me to jail. - That bitch is mean.

Why he like mean bitches, huh? Can somebody tell me what he saw

in her in the first place? All she did was put you down and

curse you out. Stupid-ass mother

- Hey, Boon... - That's my mama

talking to me like that.

And she right. You better quit playing with that girl, Shalinka, man.

She gonna have you up under that county jail, man.

Look man, I paid. I swear I paid.

I can look in your heart and know you telling

the truth about paying the bread, man, but why is she on

your bumper so tough?

Well, see here's the thing, man. We're not together anymore.

I gave the money to the kids. I'm not giving Shalinka any money.

She's bad with money.

If I'm not sleeping with her no more, I'm not getting her weave done anymore.

Best to leave the car unlocked.

I see a car unlocked, I take

their change and don't bust up anything.

Got to be able to spot the warning signs.

David Koresh, Jim Jones...

That boy is a cult leader. My window got busted last night.

Probably some kind of strange initiation for one of his brainwashed followers.

Probably.

Let them come back tonight.

'Cause tonight, you gonna be watching my car.

- I am? - Yeah, I got $5, and I

got a sleeping bag you can set up right here on the sidewalk.

I don't know about that.

What you mean you don't know about that?

You're a bum. You sleep on the sidewalk all the time.

But tonight I'm not a bum.

I'm a security professional.

In order for me to do my job, I got to sleep in the car.

No way you're sleeping in my car, Lloyd.

But if someone sees me on the sidewalk, they know I'm watching the car.

If I'm sleeping in the car, I can catch anybody red-handed.

I let you sleep in my house once.

Smelled like ass for days.

Let me give you a deal.

Let me sleep in your car, you don't have to pay me.

Okay, fine. You sleep in the car.

We're gonna start with 10 days up front, all right?

- 10 days, perfect. - Yeah.

Your ass gonna sleep on some plastic, too.

All right, plastic. I don't care.

Right on the plastic.

Tell you something else, too. If you got to pass gas, you get

out the car. You pass gas outside the car.

Outside on the sidewalk.

- No farting in my car. - No farting. Deal?

Deal. And pull your hand back.

- It smells like bum ball juice. - Bum ball juice?

Horse shit.

Hey! What up?!

Boon-Boon and boolinka! Ooh! What's up?

Hey, well, you happy?

I'm selling everything that I got.

I see you ain't selling your fancy track suits.

What? You want the track suit off my back?

Hell, no. You look like a mountain dew in

that track suit. Man, you need to be happy.

All this to pay you child support that I already paid.

Don't give me that bull, Boonie.

And by the way, your check bounced again.

I knew the check was gonna bounce.

I gave both of the kids $200 apiece last month.

Hey, tell your mama how much money I gave you.

Both: $10.

What? Tell the truth! Don't lie.

- Now, I gave you more than $10. - You're pathetic.

- It's the truth! - Even if it was the truth,

which it ain't, what kind of idiot would give little kids $400 in cash?

A highly intelligent idiot like me.

Move. You get on my nerves. Move.

Ain't nobody invite you in here.

All y'all move.

I'm taking pictures. I'm just taking pictures to see

where my money at. And I know what I'm doing.

Oh, no, no, no. Actually, I don't want any

pictures taken of me, so if you could just delete that?

Why don't you delete the part of your brain that told you you

could boss me around, bitch?! Think you better than me 'cause

- My leftovers?! - Oh, oh, oh, oh!

Come on, we got kids right here, y'all.

- Come on, come on, come on, kids. - Uh, no.

There's been a huge misunderstanding.

There is no, no way that I am doing anything with him, so if

you could just delete that...?

Under no circumstances would I even consider it.

Instagram and Facebook, bitch. Oh, wait.

I forgot a caption. "This bitch like fat broke

niggas that don't pay child support," send, tag.

- - If the shoe fits, skank...

Oh, come on, ladies, please.

- Okay, that's enough. - You know what?

I got a shoe for your ass, bitch!

Maggie!

That's right.

- It's like that? - Run, Maggie.