What homework? Not for a year, I did it. Can I copy it? Hell no, too bad. You should have done it.

Did you all hear the shooting last night?

Yeah, I heard it. I got on my bed. Man, you a scary cat.

My mama say, a bullet don't have no name on it.

I ain't afraid to get shot.

Both my brothers were shot, they still alive.

They lucky. Jesus. Told you not to bring that ball.

This is Filmzag.

This is film sack. Oh sure.

Well, hello there, and welcome to Film Sack. Yes, that's right. You've tuned in to Film Sack,

my name in the very depths of film entertainment for all mankind. This is episode 651. My name is Scott Johnson

joined today by Brian. We used to catch him shooting at Ronald Reagan posters

every weekend done away. You didn't see nothing? Oh hi. This week on Film Sack we ask why Chris Tucker why? Oh because

the boys in the hood are always hard come talking that trash and and we'll pull up in

our 1988 Netflix Red Hyundai Excel and hold you at gunpointing to you poop your backyard barbecue pants while watching this coming of age in the hood crime drama from 1991 before it chute you in the back as you run away flailing your arms.

No, oh, and keep them GD babies out of the street.

Damn, this movie is cold, just like Ricky's body on the uncovered parts of his mama's couch.

Anywho, please, we are pleased that you could attend our backyard meat party,

where we will be barbecuing meets while eyeball into discussing what we would like to do to the cute meets milling around in the backyard.

Given a chance and a 40.

Great, now I'm buzzed, hungry and horny.

Speaking of horny, I think now would be a good time to bring the party to a screeching halt by discussing how to avoid getting the AIDS,

...