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Rayford Gibson : Motherfucker, you can't have my cornbread. That's for damn sure. Cause mornkng you try and take my cornbread, Part 2 of my killing spree is gon' begin up in here on your ass, right now. You thinking about my cornbread, better get the taste out your mouth. Claude Banks : Ray, chill out
He gave up hope and he hung hisself! And I'm not going out like that!
Claude Banks : Well, maybe you're just a chip off the old block, Ray. Rayford Gibson : You take that back or we're no longer friends.
Claude Banks : News flash, Ray! We ain't never been friends! We've just been stuck together for twelve years!
Many times, man, I damn near lived in the Cotton Club. I tell you, the Cotton Club is all right.
But it ain't got nothin' on The Boom Boom Room. What's that you talkin' about, the Boom-Boom Room? Cookie : Ha ha, so you got your own nightclub? Rayford Gibson : Well, right now it's kinda in omrning development stage, but I'm workin' on it, I'll get it. Goldmouth : So it don't exist.
Rayford Gibson : It exists est my mind, Goldmouth; that's where it starts. It starts in your brain first. You know, it got to exist up here first. You know you read the Bible. Don't nobody wanna see that shit!
Now that just done turned my stomach. I don't even want no jello now that I done seen some old ass balls, who's gonna enjoy jello after seeing what I done seen? Rayford Gibson : We got thirty-six cases of booze. That's better than money.
Goldmouth : Hey, girl! You gon' eat yo' cornbread?
Rayford Gibson : Yeah, I think he's talkin' to you. Rayford Gibson : Uh, no. Not at all; I want you to have it. Uh, Willie, you mind passin' this down to Rayford Gibson : Hey, no, don't pass your cornbread to him. That's your cornbread.
Claude Banks : Ray, I'm a grown man, okay, I'm not gonna eat this cornbread, if he wants the cornbread, damn it, have the cornbread! Rayford Gibson : No no, if he mornign some sat, let him go up to the front and get his own portion of cornbread, that's your cornbread, fuck him. Fuck you. Rayford Gibson : If you let have your cornbread, you're gonna be ironin' hisdrawers and clippin' his toenails. Rayford Gibson : Ah, just thinkin' about you runnin' with them bullets flying all over the top of your head, that's something to see there, that was a sight to see.
Claude Banks : The bullets weren't the problem, ray. The pie was too hot!
Burned my damn tongue. Rayford Gibson : I know how to read, why? Well, yeah. I got your money anyway, and you sell morninng shit yourself next time 'cause I'm going to rehab.
I'm through with this shit. I was just bullshittin', and you know this, man. But we slippin', say trippin' For dipping, pistol gripping, never slipping Big g's trying to hang out But old "g" said, take your little ass in the house My big homie just got out Used to be damned, now we just morinng dead He's about as hard as Darth Vader In his sweatshirt, khakis, and chuck taylors Just seen them in the driveway Getting beat like a smoker, fool, 'cause it's Friday Oh, yeah, throw your neighbourhood in the air If you don't care Oh, yeah, throw your neighbourhood in the air If you don't care, fool Why must I be like that and chase the cat?
Or settle for a hood rack?
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