“TELL ME SOMETHING’ YOU MOTHAFUCKAS CAN’T TELL ME NOTHIN’ I’D RATHER DIE THAN TO LISTEN TO YOU…” —KENDRICK LAMAR, PULITZER PRIZE WINNER “I KNOW REAL NIGGAS HAPPEN TO LOVE IT” —SHAWN CARTER (BILLIONAIRE) 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! …killed himself. Anthony Bourdain had the greatest job that show business ever produced. This nigga 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 nigga in high school that was an urban genius. This motherfucker’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 motherfucker 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 nigga 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 nigga. Dressed like a referee, the whole shit. This motherfucker 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 nigga to kill 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 fuck’s going on inside. I have a great life, but it’s not a perfect life, but it’s good. It’s… My shit’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, nigger. 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 fucking-duh-finished. – Trump. -Who… Who’s that? – Trump – Trump. 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 niggas is the worst motherfuckers I’ve ever tried to entertain in my FUCKING life. Ugh. I’m goddamn 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 nigga has two new cases. And if you haven’t watched that documentary… uh, then I’m begging you, don’t watch it. It’s fucking gross. I felt like HBO was sticking baby dicks in my ears for four hours straight. Really nasty shit. 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 motherfuckers. 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 beat 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 goddamn Michael Jackson, was it? This kid got his dick 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 shit? “Hey, Billy, how was the weekend?” “How was my weekend? Michael Jackson sucked my dick! 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 shit. You know… I’m not a pedophile. But if I was… Macaulay Culkin’s the first kid I’m fucking, I’ll tell you that right now. I’d be a goddamn hero. “Hey, that guy over there fucked 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 shit.” I’m pretty sure he did that shit. 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 shit, and then two years later, the documentary comes out, Surviving R. Kelly. And when it comes out, Dream’s promotin’ shit 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 shit. 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 nigga 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 nigga. Nothing. So what the fuck do I got to be in the documentary for? This guy, R. Kelly, got another sex tape out now. Can you believe that shit? This guy makes more sex tapes than he does music. He’s like the DJ Khaled of sex tapes. “Another one.” Like, damn, nigga! 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 nigga read the sex tape. And it was so bad that R. Kelly sounded guilty in the transcripts. It’s fucking amazing. Sixteen times the girl’s age was mentioned. Isn’t that crazy? This motherfucker is an idiot. He was fuckin’ her like, “Yeah, this is the best 14-year-old pussy I’ve ever had in my life.” She was like, “You like this 14-year-old pussy?” Like, “Oh, yeah, I love this.” I’m like, “Man, you need to shut the fuck 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 pussy 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 pussy. Doesn’t matter what I say. And if you at home watching this shit 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 nigga 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 homophobic 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, homosexual 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 fuckin’ horror stories about the shit 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 fucking dollhouse over their head. ‘Cause, clearly, Kevin was joking. Think about it. You would have to buy this nigga 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, “Fuck it, I quit.” And then he went on every talk show in America and apologized for six weeks. Kevin fucked 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 motherfuckers 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… “faggot” 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… “faggot” on our network. I didn’t know I did anything wrong. I didn’t try to defend myself. I said, “All right. Fuck 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 “nigger” with impunity… …but I can’t say the word “faggot”?” And she said, “Because, David, you are not gay.” I said, “Well, Renée… I’m not a nigger 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 fuckin’ guts. And I don’t blame ’em. It’s not their fault. It’s mine. I can’t stop telling jokes about these niggas. 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 nigga probably got a babysitter or something. Go and answer your phone, nigga. Get that shit 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 shit. 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 fuckin’ 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 fuck 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 fuck 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, nigga! Will you just shut the fuck 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 fucking hilarious predicament. It’s really fucking 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 nigga 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 fuck up. I’m sorry, ladies. I just… I got a fucking Me Too headache. Y’all is killing me right now. It’s really fuckin’ 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 died 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 dick 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 threat? Have any women ever seen a guy that just came on his own stomach? This is the least threatening motherfucker 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 nigga’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 fuck 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 fuck what I think anyway. -Uh… I’m not for abortion. -Oh, shut up, nigga. 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 dick, you need to shut the fuck 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 kill this motherfucker, 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 shit out for yourselves. I mean, really, uh, what the fuck are we doing? I can’t live in this new world you’re proposing. And meanwhile, while we’re worrying about this other shit, look at what’s happening. They just killed another 12 people in a mass shooting in Virginia Beach. This shit’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 nigga 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 shooting 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 shoot up their school. I’d never heard of that before. I was like, “What the fuck?” I had to tell my sons the truth. I didn’t want to tell them this shit. “Son… Son, listen to me. Fuck that drill. If somebody comes to your school and wants to shoot it up, I’m just gonna be honest with you. You probably gonna get shot, nigga. I’m just being real. You got a famous dad. I talk a lot of shit. 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 shit 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 shooter, too? This nigga’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 shit is terrifying. This shit is real scary. All the parents is looking at each other crazy, because we know, as parents, that one of us is raising the shooter. 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. Shooting up school is a white kids’ game. It’s fuckin’ crazy. You know, I hated school, too. It never occurred to me… kill everybody in school? It’s fuckin’ crazy. Just do what I did, nigga. Try some things. “Have you skipped school, nigga? Skip school! Take a walk and meet some other kids. Fuck school, nigga. Try drugs. Have you tried drugs out? Nigga, that might…” Some scary shit. 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. Fuck 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 fuckin’ 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 guns, 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, “l(fā)and 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 fucking 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 shit out of me. I screamed. “Aah!” And then, I realized it was a woman. She was fucked up. She was like… “Hey, man. Hey, man. Relax, okay? I’m sick, all right? I need some drugs, man. Please? I’ll suck your dick 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 crack epidemic. You know, it’s really crazy to see. And all this shit 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 crack… 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 gun I bought was a 12-gauge shotgun. I didn’t want the gun. 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 rifle over his shoulder, too. Ain’t that a bitch? I said, “What the fuck is this guy doing on my property?” I was mad as shit, but I was unarmed. So, I ended up just waving to this motherfucker 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 gun counter. Black and sweaty, sweating and black, and I looked up and I was like… I looked like a slave or something. I said, “I need a gun. 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 gun before. I’m like… “Well, I need… I need some bullets, 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 shot.” And then he goes just like this, I’m not exaggerating, he goes, “That won’t kill a man.” He said, “It’ll just pepper him up nicely.” I said, “What the fuck? Pepper?” You know what it means to pepper a motherfucker up? It means that when the shell explodes, hot BBs will shoot out of the barrel of the gun, not killing a motherfucker, but penetrating their skin and shallow flesh. Boy, that’s gotta hurt. Hot BBs? “Aah! Aaaah!” Remember when Dick Cheney shot a motherfucker in the face and he lived? That was bird shot. 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 goddamn 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 shots in a 12-gauge shotgun. So when you load the gun, you load it like this. First shot, bird shot. Next shot, buckshot. Bird shot, and then after that, gun’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 dick 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 gun. 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, motherfucker!” 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 drugs. They’re digging in the change. I gotta act fast. This nigga’s almost got $1.50. “I warned you.” Bird shot! And there it goes. Hot BB’s will permeate his yellow heroin skin. Remember, I’m not killing 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 shot left. And I repeat the cycle. After that nigga, it’s slugs for everybody. And I’ll be in a kitchen full of dying heroin addicts, saying stupid heroin last words. “You shot me, bro.” “Oh, it hurts, man. It hurts. Ah.” Their last words are always the dumbest words, like… “Why is your dick out?” I’m just afraid of being attacked. 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 racist and homophobic attack. 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 beat him up. Tied a rope around his neck, called him all kinds of niggas and… and… put some bleach on him and ran off into the night. This shit 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 shit. 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 shit that the gay community started accusing the African American community of being homophobic for not supporting him. But what they didn’t understand is that we were supporting him with our silence. Because we understood that this nigga 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 faggot nigger from Empire?” What the fuck? Does that sound like how white people talk? I know white people. They don’t talk like that. “Are you that faggot nigger from Empire?” They would never say that. It sounds like something… that I would say. If you’re racist and homophobic, you don’t even know who this nigga 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 fucking 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 fuck is carrying rope? Like, when did you get mugged, nigga, in 1850? -Who’s got rope? – Who’s got rope? Man, that shit 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, “Fuck, let me talk about that nigga 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 shit. Now, I didn’t know that there was a journalist in the audience. And unfortunately for me, that motherfucker… 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 motherfuckers 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 shit. The whole story is funnier now. “This is MAGA country, you faggot nigger.” “You faggot nigger.” 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 fuckin’ 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, nigga? It’s really cold.” And my dad would say, “Just put more clothes on, David.” “I got all three of my outfits on, nigga. 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 fuckin’ 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 fuck? 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 shit as long as I fuckin’ 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 kill everybody at school.” Thank you very much, everybody, and good night.