♪ I was dreaming
When I wrote this ♪
♪ Forgive me if it goes astray ♪
♪ But when I woke up this morning ♪
♪ Could've sworn it was Judgment Day ♪
♪ Sky was all purple ♪
♪ There were people running everywhere ♪
And this is the bar of the whole song.
Prince say...
♪ Trying to run from my destruction ♪
♪ You know I didn't even care ♪
Good people of Atlanta,
we must never forget...
that Anthony Bourdain...
Yeah!
...k*lled himself.
Anthony Bourdain had the greatest job
that show business ever produced.
This n*gga flew around the world...
...and ate delicious meals
with outstanding people.
That man with that job
hung himself in a luxury suite in France.
♪ They say 2000-zero-zero ♪
♪ Party over, oops, out of time ♪
♪ So, tonight I'm gonna party ♪
♪ Like it's 1999 ♪
I knew a n*gga in high school
that was an urban genius.
This m*therf*cker's grades was so good,
he got all the way from the hood
to an Ivy League school
with a full scholarship.
From there, the m*therf*cker got himself
into one of the best law schools
in the country.
And when he was in law school,
he met a woman and they fell in love.
And they were gonna get married.
I remember him telling me about it.
He was home for Christmas,
and I told him, I said, "My man, my man...
save that bitch for late in your life."
But he's in love.
He didn't listen to me.
He married her while he was in law school,
and sadly, they got divorced,
while he was in law school.
He was a street n*gga from the hood.
This man had nothing...
and that bitch took half of that.
And then, I just never saw him again
for years,
and then, two years ago,
I was home in DC doing some shoppin',
tryin' to buy my sons some socks
at Foot Locker.
I go to Foot Locker.
Guess who's the manager?
That n*gga.
Dressed like a referee, the whole sh*t.
This m*therf*cker is 45 years old!
We went out drinking that night
just tryin' to catch up, and...
and he told me.
He said he's been living
with his mother for, like, ten years,
just trying to get back on his feet.
But that's not the point of the story.
The point of the story is...
never occurred to this n*gga
to k*ll himself.
He's alive and well in D.C.
I even suggested to him
that he should try it out.
Like, "I don't know, maybe..."
Nobody's life is perfect.
No matter what it looks like
from the outside,
you don't know what the f*ck's
going on inside.
I have a great life,
but it's not a perfect life,
but it's good. It's...
My sh*t's like an above ground pool.
You ever seen one of them?
It's a pool.
So, in that spirit, tonight I thought
I'd start my show a little differently.
Tonight I'm gonna do something
that I'm not particularly good at
but that I like to do.
Tonight I'm gonna try
some impressions out.
I only got two.
Aight, the first impression's
kind of dumb, but I like it.
This... This is my impression, you ready?
This is my impression...
of the Founding Fathers of America...
when the Constitution was being written.
You ready?
Here it goes.
Hurry up and finish
that Constitution, n*gg*r.
I'm trying to get some sleep.
It's not bad, right?
All right, the next one...
The next one's a little harder.
I want to see if you can guess who it is
I'm doing an impression of.
All right? Let me get into character.
You gotta guess who it is, though.
Okay, here it goes.
Uh, duh.
Hey! Durr!
If you do anything wrong in your life,
duh, and I find out about it,
I'm gonna try to take everything
away from you,
and I don't care when I find out.
Could be today, tomorrow,
15, 20 years from now.
If I find out,
you're f*cking-duh-finished.
- Tr*mp.
- Who... Who's that?
- Tr*mp
- Tr*mp.
That's you!
That's what the audience
sounds like to me.
That's why I don't be coming out
doing comedy all the time,
'cause y'all n*gg*s
is the worst m*therf*ckers
I've ever tried to entertain
in my f*cking life.
Ugh.
I'm g*dd*mn sick of it.
This is the worst time ever
to be a celebrity.
You're gonna be finished.
Everyone's doomed.
Michael Jackson has been dead
for ten years
and this n*gga has two new cases.
And if you haven't watched
that documentary...
uh, then I'm begging you,
don't watch it.
It's f*cking gross.
I felt like HBO was sticking
baby dicks in my ears
for four hours straight.
Really nasty sh*t.
I don't want to know all these things.
Turns out, uh, Michael Jackson allegedly
likes a long gander at the anus.
They said he stares at people's buttholes.
That's what they said.
That's how gross the documentary was.
I'm gonna say something
that I'm not allowed to say.
But I gotta be real. Uh...
I don't believe these m*therf*ckers.
I do not believe them.
But...
let me qualify the statement.
I... I am what's known on the streets
as a victim blamer.
You know what I mean? If somebody
come up to me like, "Dave, Dave,
Chris Brown just b*at up Rihanna."
I'll be like, "Well, what did she do?"
"Dave, Michael Jackson
was molesting children."
"Well, what were those kids
wearing at the time?"
I don't think he did it.
But you know what? Even if he did do it...
You know what I mean?
You know what I mean?
Eh...
I mean, it's Michael Jackson.
I know more than half the people
in this room
have been molested in their lives.
But it wasn't no g*dd*mn Michael Jackson,
was it?
This kid got his d*ck sucked
by the King of Pop.
All we get is awkward Thanksgivings
for the rest of our lives.
You know how good it must've felt to go
to school the next day after that sh*t?
"Hey, Billy, how was the weekend?"
"How was my weekend?
Michael Jackson sucked my d*ck!
And that was my first sexual experience.
If I'm starting here,
then sky's the limit!"
I know it seems harsh, but, man,
somebody's gotta teach these kids.
There's no such thing
as a free trip to Hawaii.
He's gonna want to look
at your butthole or something.
You know why I don't believe it?
You know why I don't believe it?
Because if Michael Jackson's out here
doing all this molesting,
then... then why not Macaulay Culkin? Hmm?
Macaulay Culkin stated in an interview
that Michael Jackson
never did anything inappropriate with him
or even around him.
Think about that sh*t.
You know...
I'm not a pedophile.
But if I was...
Macaulay Culkin's the first kid
I'm f*cking, I'll tell you that right now.
I'd be a g*dd*mn hero.
"Hey, that guy over there
f*cked the kid from Home Alone.
And you know how hard he is to catch."
♪ My mind's telling me, "No" ♪
Oh!
R. Kelly!
Well, okay. R. Kelly is different.
I mean, you know, if I'm a bettin' man,
I'm gonna put my money on
"He probably did that sh*t."
I'm pretty sure he did that sh*t.
You know, it was bad,
okay, so a couple years ago,
I was doing a show in Detroit.
And I'm sitting backstage
in my dressing room
and a friend of mine comes by,
this chick, Dream Hampton.
Dream, uh, tells me,
right before I'm going on stage,
she goes, "Dave, I'm working
on a documentary about R. Kelly.
"Would you like to be in it?"
And I was like, "Nah, bitch, I'm cool."
I went onstage,
I just forgot about the sh*t,
and then two years later,
the documentary comes out,
Surviving R. Kelly.
And when it comes out,
Dream's promotin' sh*t
and she keeps bringing me up.
She said, "I asked Dave Chappelle
to be in my documentary,
and he said it was too hot for TV."
Bitch, I did not say that.
That does not even sound like how I talk.
"Oh, that's too hot for TV."
I would never say that sh*t.
But I'm gonna tell you guys
why I wasn't in the documentary.
It's a very simple reason,
and, uh, I cannot stress
this point enough.
The only reason that I didn't do it
was because, and this is very important...
I don't know this n*gga at all!
I don't know anything!
I don't know anything
that they don't tell me about.
I don't hang out with this n*gga.
Nothing.
So what the f*ck do I got to be
in the documentary for?
This guy, R. Kelly,
got another sex tape out now.
Can you believe that sh*t?
This guy makes more sex tapes
than he does music.
He's like the DJ Khaled of sex tapes.
"Another one."
Like, damn, n*gga!
That's a lot of tapes.
The new one's so bad
that they didn't even show it.
I've never seen anything like this.
The prosecutor in Chicago
came out in a press conference
and read to the media
a transcript of a sex tape.
Have you ever heard of such a thing?
This n*gga read the sex tape.
And it was so bad that R. Kelly
sounded guilty in the transcripts.
It's f*cking amazing.
Sixteen times
the girl's age was mentioned.
Isn't that crazy?
This m*therf*cker is an idiot.
He was f*ckin' her like,
"Yeah, this is the best 14-year-old p*ssy
I've ever had in my life."
She was like,
"You like this 14-year-old p*ssy?"
Like, "Oh, yeah, I love this." I'm like,
"Man, you need to shut the f*ck up."
You gotta give your lawyer
something to work with.
You supposed to be on the tape like,
"This is the best...
36-year-old p*ssy
I've ever had in my life."
Then your lawyer can be like,
"Your Honor, clearly my client
thought that this woman was 36,
as he mentioned some 16 times
in the tape."
They gonna know you lying, though,
you know what I mean. Everybody knows...
no such thing as good 36-year-old p*ssy.
Doesn't matter what I say.
And if you at home
watching this sh*t on Netflix,
remember, bitch, you clicked on my face.
Celebrity hunting season.
Doesn't matter what I say, they're going
to get everybody eventually.
Like, look, I don't think
I did anything wrong, but...
but we'll see.
They even got poor Kevin Hart.
Can you imagine such a thing?
Kevin Hart, let me tell you something.
It was... It was Kevin Hart's dream
to host the Oscars.
That's what he told me.
And I remember when he told me,
'cause I was thinking to myself,
"Well, that's an awfully strange dream
for an African American."
What kind of n*gga dreams
of hosting the Oscars?
Kevin did, that's who.
And he did it.
Against all the odds, Kevin became
the most famous comedian
this world has ever seen,
and he got the job that only one black man
before him had had.
He was gonna host the 80th Oscars.
And I don't know what you know
about Kevin,
but I know
Kevin Hart is damn near perfect.
As close to perfect
as anybody I've ever seen.
In fact,
Kevin is precisely four tweets shy
of being perfect.
Ten years ago,
Kevin had made
some very h*m* comments.
And I'm not gonna repeat what he said...
because this is Atlanta.
You know what I mean.
I'm sure there's a lot of gay men
here tonight...
with their wives.
Far be it from me to offend anybody.
All right, I'll tell you what he said.
But just remember, these are not my words.
These were Kevin's words.
And it was a long time ago.
And I'm paraphrasing, 'cause I'm not good
at telling other people's jokes.
Okay, Kevin said...
that if his little son was demonstrating
or-or-or exhibiting,
uh, h*m* behavior around the house,
that he'd chastise him.
He'd say, "Hey, that's gay."
And then he said
he would smash a dollhouse
over that child's head.
Ooh, the gay community was furious.
And I don't blame 'em.
I got a lot of gay friends.
And all of them, 100% of them,
all have told me f*ckin' horror stories
about the sh*t they had to go through
just to be themselves.
Crazy, crazy stories.
And in all those stories, I gotta say,
not one of them
has ever mentioned anything like...
their father smashing a f*cking dollhouse
over their head.
'Cause, clearly, Kevin was joking.
Think about it. You would have to buy
this n*gga a dollhouse
to break it over his head
in the first place.
Does that sound right?
Is anybody gonna do that?
The gay community was upset,
and then they put so much pressure
on the Academy
of Motion Pictures and Sciences
that they went to Kevin and said,
"If you don't apologize to that community,
then you cannot host these Oscars."
And then Kevin said, "f*ck it, I quit."
And then he went on every talk show
in America and apologized for six weeks.
Kevin f*cked up.
I understand the mistake he made
because I've made the same mistake
early in my career.
This is many years ago, 15 years ago.
It was when I was doing Chappelle's Show.
There's a...
Thank you. Thank you.
On network television,
they have a department
that's called Standards and Practices.
This is the department that tells you
what you can and cannot say on television.
And if you're doing your job well,
you should never hear from 'em.
But if you're making Chappelle's Show,
you'll hear from these m*therf*ckers
all the time.
And remember, this was 15 years ago.
I made a mistake. I didn't even know
I'd done anything wrong.
I had written a sketch...
that had the word...
"f*gg*t" in it.
So I had to go to Standards and Practices.
They call me up.
I don't know why they're calling me, but
I like the lady that runs the department.
She's usually really fair
and was one of my favorite people
I've ever worked with.
So she sits me down.
We have a nice conversation.
She tells me,
"Oh, the sketches are great."
I go, "Oh, fantastic.
Well, then... well, then, why am I here?"
She said, "Because, David,
there's no way...
that you can ever say the word...
"f*gg*t" on our network.
I didn't know I did anything wrong.
I didn't try to defend myself.
I said, "All right. f*ck it,
I'll take it out. Have a good afternoon."
And as I was leaving, it occurred to me.
"Hey. Hey, Renée, quick question.
It's just a question.
Seriously, I wanna know.
Like, wh-why is it... why is it
that... that I can say the word "n*gg*r"
with impunity...
...but I can't say the word "f*gg*t"?"
And she said, "Because, David,
you are not gay."
I said, "Well, Renée...
I'm not a n*gg*r either."
But, you see,
what I didn't realize at the time
and what Kevin had to learn the hard way
is we were breaking an unwritten
and unspoken rule of show business.
And if I say it, you'll know
that I'm telling you the truth.
The rule is that no matter what you do
in your artistic expression,
you are never, ever, allowed to upset...
the alphabet people.
You know who I mean.
Those people that took
20% of the alphabet for themselves.
I'd say the letters,
but I don't want to conjure their anger.
Ah, it's too late now.
I'm talking about them L's
and them B's and them G's
and the T's.
People would be surprised.
I have friends of all kinds of letters.
Everybody loves me and I love everybody.
I got friends who are L's.
I got friends who are B's.
And I got friends who are G's.
But the T's hate my f*ckin' guts.
And I don't blame 'em.
It's not their fault. It's mine.
I can't stop telling jokes
about these n*gg*s.
I don't want to write these jokes,
but I just can't stop!
You know, you hear all those letters
together all the time.
"LBGT, LBGT," and you think
it's just one big movement.
It's not.
All those letters are their own movement.
They just travel in the same car together.
And...
my guess is...
Oh!
What is this, high school? This n*gga
probably got a babysitter or something.
Go and answer your phone, n*gga.
Get that sh*t out of here.
I'm... I'm in the middle
of something important.
Wouldn't it be funny if we made fun
of him and he's like, "Ha, ha,"
and he went outside like, "Hello?"
"Mama's dead." "Oh, no!"
"Mama's dead."
That was a weird-timed phone call,
wasn't it?
It's like his phone is gay.
Like I was saying...
my guess is...
the G's are driving that car.
That makes sense to me.
'Cause there's white men in the G's.
And these people are trying to get around,
uh, discrimination and oppression,
and you know how white dudes are.
"We know these roads.
In fact, we built these roads.
"The rest of you, buckle up.
We'll get you to where you want to go."
So the G's are just driving the car.
Of course,
next to the G's in the passenger seat...
is the L's.
Everybody likes the L's,
except for the G's.
I don't know what that's about.
I just know the G's don't like them
that much.
The G's always say, like,
little subliminal digs on 'em.
It's unnecessary sh*t.
It's not mean, but you know what I mean?
They just be like...
"I wouldn't wear that."
And the only thing that breaks the tension
between the L's and the G's
are the B's in the backseat.
That's right. There you go.
Everybody scream out
when you hear your letter.
If there's one thing that the L's
and the G's agree on,
is it's that the B's are f*ckin' gross.
They seem greedy to the L's and the G's.
You know what I mean?
'Cause they're just sittin'
in the back seat like, "Yeah, man,
I'll f*ck anybody in this car.
What's going on, man?"
And sitting next to the B's,
all the way in the backseat by themselves
looking out the window...
that's the T's.
Everybody in the car respects the T's,
but everyone also...
resents the T's.
It's not the T's' fault,
but everyone in the car just feels like
the T's are making the trip take longer.
Anything the T's say
gets on everybody's nerves.
And then, the T's don't even
say anything bad.
They just be in the back
talking to themselves. "Hm...
"I'm hot."
"Shut up. Shut the f*ck up, okay?
You should roll the window down, you...
Bitch, I don't know what you..."
"What?
I just said I was hot.
Can you pull over at the next exit?
I need to use the restroom."
"There is not a restroom for you
for four states, n*gga!
Will you just shut the f*ck up
so we can get where we're going?"
And just when that car
can't get any more tense,
the Q's are a hitchhiker
that they pick up on the road.
Some white dude in booty shorts
just walking in the freeway.
The G's see him.
"Hm, that guy might be one of us.
Hey, are you okay? You need some help?"
And he come over there with them
booty shorts, leaning on the window.
"Hey, what's going on, fellas?"
Lady.
Whatever pronoun
makes you feel comfortable in the back.
Yeah.
I don't really know where I'm going.
I don't know if I'm gay or I'm straight
or whatever.
All I know for sure is that, um...
I really want to get in this car."
And they make him get in
and sit between the B's and the T's.
I feel bad for T's.
But they're so confusing.
And it's not all my fault.
I-I feel like they need to take
some responsibility for my jokes.
'Cause I didn't come up with this idea
on my own,
this idea that a person can be born
in the wrong body.
But they have to admit
that's a f*cking hilarious predicament.
It's really f*cking funny.
If it happened to me, you'd laugh.
Wouldn't you?
That wouldn't be funny
if it happened to me?
I think it would be.
What if... What if it did?
What if... What if I was...
What if I was Chinese?
But... But born in this n*gga body.
That's not funny?
And for the rest of my life,
I had to go around making that face.
"Hey, everybody, I'm Chinese!"
And everyone gets mad.
"Stop making that face. That's offensive."
"What?"
"This is how I feel inside."
It's hard not to write these jokes.
It's hard not to think about it.
Even when I watch sports, I'd be thinking
about it. Like, think about it.
Okay, say... say LeBron James,
uh, changed his gender.
You know what I mean? Okay.
Can he stay in the NBA,
or, because he's a woman,
does he have to go to the WNBA
where he will score 840 points a game?
What does it actually mean to be equal?
You know what I mean?
Like, if women are actually equal to men,
then there would be no WNBA, would there?
You would just be good enough
to play in the NBA with us.
Or, here's another idea
that's going to be very controversial,
you could...
shut the f*ck up.
I'm sorry, ladies. I just...
I got a f*cking Me Too headache.
Y'all is k*lling me right now.
It's really f*ckin' tough
to watch what's going on.
You know, ladies,
I said it in my last special,
and I got in a lot of trouble for this.
I told you, you were right.
But the way you're going about it
is not going to work.
But I'm biased. I said it.
Louis C.K. was a very good friend of mine
before he d*ed
in that terrible masturbation accident.
And it was his room. You read the story.
He was masturbating in his own room.
That's where you supposed to masturbate.
Then he said, "Hey, everybody,
I'm gonna pull my d*ck out."
Nobody ran for the door
or nothing like that.
They all just kind of hung out, like,
"I wonder if this guy is serious."
And he came on his own stomach.
There it is.
What is the thr*at?
Have any women ever seen a guy
that just came on his own stomach?
This is the least threatening m*therf*cker
the Earth has ever seen.
All you see is shame in their face and...
cum dripping down like pancake butter.
He didn't do anything that you can
call the police for. I dare you to try.
Call the police on him.
"Hello? Police, yes.
I am... I am on the other line
with comedian Louis C.K.,
and I think that he is masturbating
while I'm on the phone."
You know what the police are gonna say
in Atlanta?
"Well, what are you guys talking about?
Mm-hm. Mm-hmm."
They ruined this n*gga's life, and now
he's coming back playing comedy clubs,
and they acting like if he's able
to do that, that's gonna hurt women.
What the f*ck is your agenda, ladies?
Is... Is sexism dead?
No, in fact, the opposite happened.
I said it was gonna get worse,
and they said I was tone deaf.
But eight states, including your state,
have passed the most stringent
anti-abortion laws
this nation has seen since Roe v. Wade.
I...
I told you. I told you.
I'll be real with you, and I know nobody
gives a f*ck what I think anyway.
Uh...
I'm not for abortion.
Oh, shut up, n*gga.
I'm not for it,
but I'm not against it either.
It all depends...
on who I get pregnant.
I don't care... I'll tell you right now.
I don't care what your religious beliefs
are or anything.
If you have a d*ck, you need
to shut the f*ck up on this one.
Seriously.
This is theirs.
The right to choose
is their unequivocal right.
Not only do I believe
they have the right to choose,
I believe that they shouldn't
have to consult anybody,
except for a physician...
...about how they exercise that right.
Gentleman, that is fair.
And ladies, to be fair to us,
I also believe
if you decide to have the baby,
a man should not have to pay.
That's fair.
If you can k*ll this m*therf*cker,
I can at least abandon 'em.
It's my money, my choice.
And if I'm wrong,
then perhaps we're wrong.
So, figure that sh*t out for yourselves.
I mean, really, uh,
what the f*ck are we doing?
I can't live in this new world
you're proposing.
And meanwhile, while we're worrying
about this other sh*t,
look at what's happening.
They just k*lled another 12 people
in a mass sh**ting in Virginia Beach.
This sh*t's happening every week.
It happens so much, I'm almost...
I don't care anymore.
I came home early from the road.
I had a $12,000 suit on,
'cause life's been going good.
And I got home early,
and dinner was cookin'.
You ever come home when dinner's cookin'?
Doesn't that smell good?
And my son saw me, and he was like,
"Dad's home."
And he got up from the table
and ran over to give me a hug,
but he had chicken grease
all over his face,
so I stiffed on him,
like, "Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, my man, my man.
Watch these threads, son.
This is an expensive suit.
I don't want you
to get that chicken grease all over me."
A-And he was like,
"What the f...
Chicken grease?
Dad, this is duck."
Hmm.
A tear came out of my eyes.
I never dreamt I'd do so well in life
that I'd raise a n*gga
with duck grease all over his face.
And we sat down,
we just talked about everything.
I was telling my wife
about how my shows were going,
and I told her my trans jokes,
and she was like, "Oh, I hate that joke."
And you know why she hates the joke?
'Cause she's Asian.
But you know what I mean?
I don't make that face at the house,
u-unless we're really fightin'.
And me and her, we weren't arguing,
but you know what I mean?
She's like, "You need to stop doing that."
And then, I tried to change the subject.
"Oh, how is school going, boys?"
And my son's telling me, "Well,
we didn't have school today, technically."
I'm like, "What... What's going on?"
He said, "Well there was, like,
a school sh**ting drill."
I never heard of this.
You know what this is?
They have drills that they make kids do,
uh, where they practice what to do
if somebody comes
to sh**t up their school.
I'd never heard of that before.
I was like, "What the f*ck?"
I had to tell my sons the truth.
I didn't want to tell them this sh*t.
"Son...
Son, listen to me.
f*ck that drill.
If somebody comes to your school
and wants to sh**t it up,
I'm just gonna be honest with you.
You probably gonna get sh*t, n*gga.
I'm just being real.
You got a famous dad.
I talk a lot of sh*t.
They gonna be gunning for you,
little buddy.
Just stay low and run in a zigzag pattern,
and don't try to save anybody, son.
Do you understand me?"
Why would you have kids rehearse
for some sh*t they have no control over?
All you're doing is training these kids
to worry.
It's the stupidest drill
I've ever heard of.
And while you're in there training 'em
during these drills,
well, aren't you
training the sh**t, too?
This n*gga's in here listening
and learning like the other kids.
Sittin' in the back...
"So, where are we supposed to meet?
Okay."
All right.
If you're a parent,
this sh*t is terrifying.
This sh*t is real scary.
All the parents
is looking at each other crazy,
because we know, as parents,
that one of us
is raising the sh**t.
We just don't know which one of us it is.
All we know for sure...
is that if you're a white parent,
the chances that it's you...
...it's exponentially higher
than the rest of us.
sh**ting up school is a white kids' game.
It's f*ckin' crazy.
You know, I hated school, too.
It never occurred to me...
k*ll everybody in school?
It's f*ckin' crazy.
Just do what I did, n*gga.
Try some things.
"Have you skipped school, n*gga?
Skip school!
Take a walk and meet some other kids.
f*ck school, n*gga.
Try dr*gs. Have you tried dr*gs out?
n*gga, that might..."
Some scary sh*t.
I've given this a lot of thought.
I don't see any peaceful way
to disarm America's whites.
There's only one thing that's going
to save this country from itself.
Same thing that always saves
this country from itself,
and that is African Americans.
Right.
And I know the question
that a lot of y'all have in your minds is,
"Should we do it?"
Yeah. f*ck yeah, we should do it.
Listen, no matter what they say
or how they make you feel,
remember, this is your country, too.
It is incumbent upon us...
to save our country.
And you know what we have to do.
This is a f*ckin' election year.
We gotta be serious.
Every able-bodied African American
must register
for a legal firearm.
That's the only way
they'll change the law.
I hate g*ns, personally.
I can't stand 'em.
Yeah, but I have several.
I don't want 'em,
but I feel like I need 'em.
Don't forget where I live. I live in Ohio.
And anyone that knows anything about Ohio
knows that even the word "Ohio"
is an old Native American word.
It means, literally,
uh, "land of poor white people."
And I don't know
what's going on down here,
but in my experience, uh,
poor white people love,
and, I mean, they f*cking love...
heroin.
They can't seem to get enough of it.
I didn't know what I was looking at
at first. I was driving, like,
"Why are all these white people
so sleepy out here?"
It's really bad.
Matter of fact,
I was coming out of the nightclub
the other night in Dayton,
and I had parked my car in the alley,
and no one was out.
I didn't have no bodyguards or nothing.
I was home. I figured everything was fine.
And as soon as I open my car door,
all by myself,
suddenly,
uh, one of these heroin-addicted whites
just pops out of a trash can.
It scared the sh*t out of me. I screamed.
"Aah!"
And then, I realized it was a woman.
She was f*cked up.
She was like...
"Hey, man.
Hey, man. Relax, okay?
I'm sick, all right?
I need some dr*gs, man.
Please? I'll suck your d*ck
for five dollars, man."
I was like, "Ick...
Two."
Obviously, I'm joking.
This opioid crisis is a crisis.
I see it everyday.
It's as bad as they say.
It's ruining lives, it's...
destroying families.
Sadly, you know what it reminds me of?
Seeing it?
Reminds me of us.
These white folks look exactly like us
during the cr*ck epidemic.
You know, it's really crazy to see.
And all this sh*t
they talk about on the news
about how divided the nation is,
I don't believe it. I feel like, nowadays,
we're gettin' a real good look
at each other.
It's wild, because I even have insight
into how the white community
must've felt watching the black community
go through the scourge of cr*ck...
because I don't care either.
"Hang in there, Whites.
Just say no. What's so hard about that?"
Remember when y'all said that to us?
But it's okay.
There's no grudges.
Now you finally got it right.
Once it started happening to your kids,
you realize it's a health crisis.
These people are sick.
They are not criminals.
They are sick.
Be that as it may,
I'm armed to the teeth.
First g*n I bought was a 12-gauge shotgun.
I didn't want the g*n.
Remember, though, I'd moved to a farm
and I was sittin' on the porch,
and I see a white dude
walking across my property,
entitled, like he's supposed to be there.
He had a r*fle over his shoulder, too.
Ain't that a bitch?
I said, "What the f*ck is this guy doing
on my property?"
I was mad as sh*t,
but I was unarmed.
So, I ended up just waving
to this m*therf*cker like a bitch.
I was just, like...
And as soon as he got far enough away,
I ran to my car and sped to Kmart.
This is in a rural white area.
And remember, I was nervous,
'cause the guy was on my property,
I'm black, and I was sweating.
You know what I mean?
And I ran to the g*n counter.
Black and sweaty,
sweating and black,
and I looked up and I was like...
I looked like a sl*ve or something.
I said, "I need a g*n. Immediately."
Like that.
Just like that.
The guy didn't ask no questions,
he just...
grabbed a 12-gauge shotgun,
handed it to me.
I'd never even held a g*n before.
I'm like...
"Well, I need...
I need some b*ll*ts, too."
And the guy reached under the counter,
put two boxes of shells on the counter.
He said, "All right, buddy.
Which box do you want?"
I didn't know.
One box had a picture of some ducks on it.
The other box had a picture of some deer.
I said, "Well, what's that box
with them ducks?"
He said, "Oh, that there's bird sh*t."
And then he goes just like this,
I'm not exaggerating, he goes,
"That won't k*ll a man."
He said,
"It'll just pepper him up nicely."
I said, "What the f*ck? Pepper?"
You know what it means
to pepper a m*therf*cker up?
It means that when the shell explodes,
hot BBs will sh**t out
of the barrel of the g*n,
not k*lling a m*therf*cker,
but penetrating their skin
and shallow flesh.
Boy, that's gotta hurt.
Hot BBs?
"Aah! Aaaah!"
Remember when d*ck Cheney
sh*t a m*therf*cker in the face
and he lived?
That was bird sh*t.
I said, "Well, what's that box
with the deer on it?"
He goes, "Oh, that there is buckshot.
That'll put a hole in a g*dd*mn truck
if you wanted to.
So, which box do you want?"
And he picked the one with the deer up
and shook it.
I thought he was trying to trick me.
I was like, "Do you have a box, uh,
with a picture of a white dude trespassing
on it? 'Cause...
...that's exactly
the strength I'm looking for.
But I didn't know that if you're defending
your home with a shotgun,
the formula dictates that you're supposed
to buy both boxes.
This was not a formula
that I was familiar with.
It goes like this: there's six sh*ts
in a 12-gauge shotgun.
So when you load the g*n,
you load it like this.
First sh*t, bird sh*t.
Next sh*t, buckshot.
Bird sh*t, and then after that,
g*n's Jamaican.
Buckshot, buckshot, buckshot.
But you gotta picture it. Okay, like,
say I'm in bed and I'm sleepin',
and suddenly, my wife wakes me up.
"David. David, wake up!"
And I'm like, "Uh, oh.
Look who's come around."
And I pull my d*ck over the top
of my pajamas.
And she's says, "No, I hear somethin'."
I go, "Oh, this bitch."
So I get up out of bed...
Uh, grab the g*n.
I say, "Wait here, baby.
I'll go check it out.
Just lock the door behind me."
Oh, my God, she's right.
Right there in the kitchen
is a heroin-addicted white and...
he's digging through the change jar
by the door.
"I work really hard for that change.
I gotta do something."
So, first, I rack the shotgun.
"Hey, m*therf*cker!" Click-clack.
That's a test.
That click-clack sound will stop
a rational human being in their tracks.
But, sure enough,
this person is not rational.
They're sick on dr*gs.
They're digging in the change.
I gotta act fast.
This n*gga's almost got $1.50.
"I warned you."
Bird sh*t!
And there it goes.
Hot BB's will permeate
his yellow heroin skin.
Remember, I'm not k*lling him,
I'm just "peppering him up nice."
He lets out a heroin scream.
No!
And that should be the end of it.
But... Uh-oh.
I miscalculated.
While he's on the ground screaming,
I notice that his teeth
are horribly miscolored.
That's not heroin at all, is it?
That's crystal meth.
He pops right back up, unscathed.
Time for the heavy stuff.
Clack-clack.
Buckshot!
And then, if he got a friend with him,
I got one more bird sh*t left.
And I repeat the cycle.
After that n*gga,
it's slugs for everybody.
And I'll be in a kitchen
full of dying heroin addicts,
saying stupid heroin last words.
"You sh*t me, bro."
"Oh, it hurts, man.
It hurts. Ah."
Their last words are always
the dumbest words, like...
"Why is your d*ck out?"
I'm just afraid of being att*cked.
It happens to the best of us.
Don't ever forget what happened
to that French actor.
You know who I'm talking about.
Jussie Smollett, he's a very French...
A very famous French actor.
Y'all never heard of Jussie Smollett?
Jussie Smollett is an actor from France.
A-And he became famous
on a show called Empire.
And one night,
he was in Chicago late at night,
and was the victim...
He was the victim of a r*cist
and h*m* att*ck.
You see, Jussie Smollett is...
gay, and he is black,
not just French.
Oh, it was a crazy story.
Apparently, when he's walking
down the street late at night,
two white men came out of the shadows,
uh...
with MAGA hats on and b*at him up.
Tied a rope around his neck,
called him all kinds of n*gg*s and...
and...
put some bleach on him
and ran off into the night.
This sh*t was, like, international news.
And everybody was furious,
especially in Hollywood.
It's all over everybody's Twitter feed
and Instagram page.
"Justice for Jussie" and all this sh*t.
The whole country was up in arms.
We was talking about it all the time
on the news,
and... and, for some reason,
uh, African Americans,
we were like oddly quiet.
We were so quiet about this sh*t
that the gay community started accusing
the African American community
of being h*m*
for not supporting him.
But what they didn't understand
is that we were supporting him
with our silence.
Because we understood
that this n*gga was clearly lying.
None of these details added up at all.
He said he's walking down the street
in Chicago
and-and, uh, white dudes
come up to him and say,
"Hey, man, aren't you that f*gg*t n*gg*r
from Empire?"
What the f*ck?
Does that sound like
how white people talk?
I know white people.
They don't talk like that.
"Are you that f*gg*t n*gg*r from Empire?"
They would never say that.
It sounds like something...
that I would say.
If you're r*cist and h*m*,
you don't even know who this n*gga is.
You can't watch Empire.
Black people never feel sorry
for the police,
but this time,
we even felt sorry for the police.
Can you imagine
if you was a police veteran
taking this kid's police report?
"Okay, Mr. Smollett.
Please, tell me what happened."
"All right, you... 2:00 a.m.
You left the house at 2:00 a.m.
It was minus 16 degrees and...
All right.
You were walking? You were walking.
All right.
And... and where were you going?
Subway?
Sandwiches?
That's when the men approached you?
Did you see them? Do you have any...
Okay, what did they have on?
MAGA hats?
MAGA hats on in Chicago?
Excuse me, one second, Mr. Smollett.
Frank, come here for a second.
Find out where Kanye West was last night."
Such a f*cking outrageous story.
He said they put a rope around his neck.
Has anyone here ever been to Chicago?
Yes!
All right. All right,
so you've been there.
Now, tell me, how much rope
do you remember seeing?
Who the f*ck is carrying rope?
Like, when did you get mugged, n*gga,
in 1850?
Who's got rope?
Who's got rope?
Man, that sh*t was awful.
So, okay.
I'm doing a show somewhere,
and I'm on stage,
and I was a little drunk, you know.
I figured, "f*ck, let me talk
about that n*gga a little bit."
I figured it'd be safe, 'cause, you know,
everybody's phones are locked up...
And I went in on this kid.
I was talking all kinds of sh*t.
Now, I didn't know
that there was a journalist
in the audience.
And unfortunately for me,
that m*therf*cker...
took impeccable notes.
He told everybody everything I said.
He was even puttin' the jokes
in the headline.
The headline said, "Dave Chappelle Says
He Wants To Smash A Dollhouse
Over Jussie Smollett's Head."
I thought for sure
when I read that headline, I said,
"Well, that's it for me. I'm canceled."
But lucky for me,
that very same day,
the Chicago police caught
the m*therf*ckers that actually did it,
and, hilariously,
they were both, uh, Nigerian.
Not only were they not white,
they were very, very black.
They were Nigerian,
which is the funniest sh*t.
The whole story is funnier now.
"This is MAGA country,
you f*gg*t n*gg*r."
"You f*gg*t n*gg*r."
If... If you're in a group
that I made fun of,
then just know that I probably will only
make fun of you
if I see myself in you.
I make fun of poor white people
because I was once poor.
And I know that the only difference
between a poor black person
and a poor white person
is that a poor white person
feels like it's not supposed
to be happening to them.
Yeah!
Everything else is the same.
I know what it's like
to have a cold house.
I wasn't allowed to touch the thermostat
growing up without asking my father,
and it would be f*ckin' freezing
in the house.
I'd be like, "Dad, please.
Can I please just turn the heat up
to, like, I don't know, 32, n*gga?
It's really cold."
And my dad would say,
"Just put more clothes on, David."
"I got all three of my outfits on, n*gga.
Will you look at me?
I'm freezing up here."
And he said, "Just don't think
about how cold you are, David."
And I said this. I didn't say it to him,
but I said it in front of him
so he could hear.
I said, "I f*ckin' hate being poor."
And my dad got really upset.
He didn't scream or howl.
That wasn't his way.
He just threw his newspaper on the floor,
and he said, "David, David, David.
You are not poor."
He said, "Poor is a mentality."
He said, "It's a mentality
that very few people ever recover from.
Don't you forget it, son.
You are broke."
He said, "These are just
financial circumstances
that I hope to overcome
one day very soon."
And I said, "Well, Dad,
whatever you want to call this,
uh, it's wildly uncomfortable."
There was a big dance coming up
in the middle school.
I was 12 years old.
I said, "Dad, can I go to the dance?"
He said, "Of course you can go.
I want you to get out
and meet some more kids."
I said, "Great. Uh, it costs three dollars
to get in."
And my dad said, "Ooh...
Sorry, son, uh...
I don't have it."
I was like, "What the f*ck?
You don't have three dollars?
Well, then, how are we alive, Dad?
Wish I found some way
out of this hell!
I'd do anything to not be poor.
I will show Michael Jackson my anus
if I get a chance.
I just gotta get out of this hell."
Dad said, "If you want to go to the dance
bad enough, I'll tell you what.
There's some money in the change jar,
get the money from there."
I was 12 years old. That's what I did.
I showed up to the dance early.
There's a long line of kids
waiting behind me
while I'm at the door, trying to count out
300 pennies to get inside.
I will never forget this sh*t
as long as I f*ckin' live.
Oh, man, you know. If you've been poor,
you know what that feels like.
You ashamed all the time.
Feels like it's your fault.
And all them kids was laughing,
"Ha, ha, ha,
look how poor Dave Chappelle is."
Oh.
Like, when I think back at it,
that was really the only time in my life
that I ever thought to myself,
"I should k*ll everybody at school."
Thank you very much, everybody,
and good night.
♪ Got loyalty, got royalty
Inside my DNA ♪
♪ Got loyalty, got royalty
Inside my DNA ♪
♪ I got loyalty, got royalty
Inside my DNA ♪
♪ I got...
This is my heritage, all I'm inheritin' ♪
♪ Money and power
The makin' of marriages ♪
♪ Tell me somethin' ♪
♪ You m*therf*ckers
Can't tell me nothin' ♪
♪ I'd rather die than to listen to you ♪
♪ My DNA not for imitation ♪
♪ Your DNA an abomination
This how it is when you're in the Matrix ♪
♪ Dodgin' b*ll*ts, reapin' what you sow ♪
♪ Stackin' up the footage
Livin' on the go, sleepin' in a villa ♪
♪ Sippin' from a Grammy
Walkin' in the buildin' ♪
♪ Diamond in the ceilin'
Marble floors ♪
♪ Beach inside the window
Peekin' out the window ♪
♪ Baby in the pool, Godfather goals
Only Lord knows ♪
♪ I've been goin' hammer
Dodgin' paparazzi ♪
♪ Freakin' through the cameras ♪
♪ Eat at Four Daughters
Brock wearin' sandals ♪
♪ Yoga on a Monday
Stretchin' to Nirvana ♪
♪ Watchin' all the snakes
Curvin' all the fakes ♪
♪ Phone never on, I don't conversate
I don't compromise, I just penetrate ♪
♪ Sex, money, m*rder, these are the breaks
These are the times, level number nine ♪
♪ Look up in the sky, ten is on the way
Sentence on the way, killings on the way ♪
♪ m*therf*cker, I got winners on the way ♪
♪ You ain't sh*t
Without a body on your belt ♪
♪ You ain't sh*t
Without a ticket on your plate ♪
♪ You ain't sick enough
To pull it on yourself ♪
♪ You ain't rich enough
To hit the lot and skate ♪
♪ Tell me when destruction
Gonna be my fate ♪
♪ Gonna be your fate
Gonna be our faith ♪
♪ Peace to the world, let it rotate ♪
♪ Sex, money, m*rder, our DNA ♪
♪ Mommy ♪
♪ Why does everybody have a b*mb? ♪
♪ Mommy ♪
♪ Why does everybody have a b*mb? ♪
By the way...
Vanglorious!
This is protected
by the red, the black, and the green,
at the crossroad,
with a key,
sissy!
Dave Chappelle: Sticks & Stones (2019)
Moderator: Maskath3