[male announcer] ATL, get ready for the man of the hour! A NETFLIX ORIGINAL COMEDY SPECIAL He’s sold out tours, you’ve seen him on TV and in movies representing Chicago, soon to be one of the legends of laughter the hood hero, DeRay Davis! [cheering, applause] [hip-hop music playing]
♪ Ay, ay, ay ♪ ♪ Ay, ay, ay ♪
♪ Have some sex tonight Have some sex tonight ♪
♪ For no reason Have some sex tonight. ♪
Have– All right. Okay, thanks.
What’s up, ATL? What’s up? – [cheering] -Yeah. Y’all showed up. That’s cool as hell. Y’all showed up! My cousin was, like, “Ain’t nobody going to come.” I was, “Yes they are, I’m going to wear nice clothes. They’re gonna show up.” -Y’all look good, man. -[audience member] You look good! No I don’t. I ain’t cut shit. I don’t look good. I didn’t do much shaving. I wanted to look authentic. Everybody’s getting… Men are getting lace fronts, now. [laughter] Dudes with waves. Like, “Baby, come paste my wig on.” [as a female] “I’m trying to do mine.” [deep voice] “Do mine first.” Like, couples coming home from the club, both pulling their wigs off. I want to look like this. I like looking different, man. Because everybody’s doing their specials, looking shaved, their hairline painted, and, uh… [chuckles] “You melting, my nigga. You melting right here.” Plus, this confuses the chicks. They don’t know what they be getting. Because I look filthy, but I’m fresh. You know what I’m saying? They don’t know if we’re going to the club or camping. [as a female] “I don’t know, girl. I’ll wear my Timberland boots and my backpack. DeRay is crazy!”
It’s amazing that I do this, and people look at me different. When other actors like Leonardo DiCaprio or Brad Pitt grow their hair, “Oh, good. They must be between movies.” I grow my shit out, “He must be between homes.” [audience laughs] A bum walked up to me. He said, “Damn, it can happen to anybody.” I said, “Hey, man!” “I thought you were doing good.” “I am doing good.” “You need some help?” “No, I don’t need no goddamn help.” People say I should look good. They say, “You’re famous, always look fresh!”
I don’t know if I’m famous. I don’t know if I want to be famous. Being a celebrity bothers me, because I still want to steal. [audience laughs] You too? You people still want to steal? What is it about stealing that’s so fun? Ain’t it? Stealing shit is just fun. I was in a store in Beverly Hills, it didn’t have a sensor on it. I was like… [groans] I ought to stuff this in my drawers, right? Oh, God. I see what you’re doing, Lord. Ah. You’re trying to make me snatch my own blessings away.
I try to shake it, but I still have this criminal mentality. I was at a grocery store in Chicago. And this dud went in and left his car running. I was like, “This nigga, here?” [audience laughing] “I see what you’re doing, God. I ain’t gonna get him” Nobody else feel that way? When you’re at the grocery, behind the old lady? She’s buying one item, but she pulls out all them hundreds? You’re like… [groans] Right there! Real criminals look at that like it’s a blessing. “Thank you, Lord, for putting this old lady in front of me. I didn’t know how I was gonna pay my next bill, but you put her here for me, Lord. I’m not gonna hurt her. Lay her down easy. I’m gonna trip that cane and lay her down comfortably. She gonna see another day, I hope. I’m bringing her and her family closer. They let her go here by herself. Who let their Grand-mama go to the grocery store alone? They shouldn’t have had her done it. Thank you for the blessings. Amen.
But I don’t know if I’m famous. I forget I’m famous, sometimes. Dudes pull up next to me, like… “What’s up, dude?” “You’re our boy.” “Oh, yeah, thanks.” So, I be known, man. My friends tell me to act more famous. All my friends got money. They’re super-famous. All the comedians. Dave Chapelle, great comic. Been around Chris Brown. Kevin Hart was my roommate before. Yes. Every morning, he’d wake up. I’m like, “Nigga, go make that breakfast.” And get these little Air Force Ones out of here. Who’s shoes this little? He used to hate that joke. “Get these little shoes out of here.” One time he got in the car, I had his shoes hanging from the rear-view mirror. Baby shoes. “Kevin, look at your shoes.” [as Kevin Hart] “Get them down, get them down!” [chuckles]
I don’t know, man. I’m trying to figure out my famous. Who am I? I know I’ve been in shit. People ask, “What you gonna be in next?” “Motherfucker, this” [audience laughs] I don’t know what’s next. Stop asking actors what’s next. I don’t know. I know I’ve been in shit, because I googled me. [audience laughs] Go to hell, Google. I googled me, and it said I was 48. Who the fuck changed my age? The worst thing you can do to someone in Hollywood is make them older. I didn’t know it happened until I went to an audition and Morgan Freeman was there. [audience laughs] “We’re here for the same part.” “Nigga!” Don’t make me an uncle when I’m still a cousin.
But I’ve been in some shit. I’ve traveled, I’ve done things. I was in Africa. I got booked in Africa. Nigeria. They payed me so much money, I thought they purchased me. [audience laughs] I told my baby, “Daddy might not be back.” They gave me racks, motherfucker. I just imagine me being in some cage. [African accent] “Come look at my new DeRay. There is my lion, my zebra, and there is my DeRay. DeRay, tell a joke. Tell a joke. He is mad, we have not fed him today. Tell a joke.”
But I’ve done shit. I’m happy about the little movies I did. I’m happy. A lot of movies. I did 30 fucking movies. [cheers, applause] I was only in those bitches about three minutes, but I’ve been in them bitches. Collectively, it’s a whole film. Fuck all y’all, how about that shit? Right now. I was in The Fog. I was in a horror movie. How about that? Not only that. I’m black history. I was a black dude in a horror movie, and I survived, Mama. -[cheers, applause] -Now what? And I was on a boat! Niggas don’t get on boats! Niggas get on cruise ships and yachts for a video, front the hell off. But niggas don’t get on boats. The only time niggas get on boats is like this: “Man, I’m broke as hell.” “Nigga, I’m in the same boat!” That’s the only time. Niggas get in boats. I’m black history.
But I want to be in more shit. People say “Why you ain’t in more shit? You should be.” I know! I audition for stuff. Go to auditions I know I should get. I read the breakdown. “Chicago Hood Nigga”. I’m like, “I’m going in for this shit.” Ain’t it crazy? I gotta audition to be a “Chicago Hood Nigga” when I’m a Chicago hood nigga? Just give me the part. I’ll just bring in the people I murdered. Here they go! So, I go in and audition for white people to play the “hood nigga”. Did you hear what I just said? I auditioned for white people to be– “All right, do the lines.” “All right, I got this shit all day. Hold up, hold up.” “Lay on the ground bitch! It ain’t a game!” [nasally] Hmm. Uh… “I wasn’t scared. Were you scared? I wasn’t afraid.” Could you do it again? More angry, more hood. Just get in it! [growls] Get me! I want to feel like I’m going to die. [play screams] I’m just a regular white guy. I’m gonna die! Show me!” I heard him whispering. [whispers] I said, “What the fuck?” They whisper… [whispers] I said, “What did you say?” “We don’t want to say it to you. [stammering] You– you people get upset.” “Did you say ‘You people’?” “No, first I said ‘You,’ then I thought, ‘the people,’ ‘People get upset’.” “Well, what did you say?” “Okay, we were wondering, can you… act blacker?” “Act blacker? What the fuck?” “Yeah. blacker. Like, ‘Hey man, what the fuck?'” [audience laughs] I’m, like, “You all don’t even know what acting black is!” Are you kidding me? We know what acting black is. You’ve never experienced somebody acting black. You know what acting black is? It’s stealing something from someone’s house. You know you stole it, but you act like you ain’t got it. While you’re still in their house. “Why are you touching me? What’s up?” [audience laughs] You gotta let them pat you down, too. “Go on, touch me! You think I got it?”
Acting black is being broke, but acting like you’re rich. “Shut your broke ass up!” “You don’t know what I’m sitting on, nigga!” You gotta walk backwards when you say it. “You don’t know what I’m sitting on, nigga!” “You don’t know what I’m sitting on, nigga!” “Why you keep going backwards?” “You keep coming forwards. You want what I’m sitting on, nigga!” Start walking backwards.
Acting black… Acting black is having it and acting like you don’t got it. “I see you out here, doing it big in these streets.” “Player, I’m doing a little something, you know what I mean? [audience laughing] I ain’t out here, trying–” “I see your diamonds. “I ain’t trying to…” Nigga, are you wearing four pairs of Jordans?” “I keep changing while I got them on. I keep changing while I’m walking.” “Is that four pairs of Jordans?” “I keep switching them Jordans while I got them on.” “This nigga crazy.” That’s acting black.
Acting black is your mama having different boyfriends… [chuckling] …and you act like you only met one of them. [audience laughing] “How many other niggas been over here?” [as a child] “Just you.” That’s acting black. That’s how you act black.
Acting black is coming home knowing your woman’s mad, so you act like you’re mad, too. So you ain’t gotta argue with that ass. You know she’s pissed off. [as a female] “This motherfucker thinks this is a game. He thinks it’s a goddamned game. I know who he… Ah, oh, ooh.” So, you gotta come into the house mad. “What the fuck!” Be creative, slam the door. Bow! Push the baby down. [imitates baby cry] [audience laughs] Look away, don’t give her any eye contact. [as a female] “Fuck that shit. Where the fuck you been?” “Where have I been? What? Those motherfuckers think they can kill me?” [as a female] “Who tried to kill you? Who tried to kill you? I had a feeling! I had a feeling! I had a feeling!” Bitches always got a feeling. “I had a feeling!” “Get away from the window, they’ll kill you, too!” [as a female] “I knew it!” “I don’t know who them niggas was! All I know is I’m going out every night this week until I catch them!” The black woman’s like, “Shit. Nigga better come in here shot, talking that bullshit. I ain’t no dumb-ass, stupid-ass whore.”
Black women don’t believe shit. Even if you come into the house shot, black women will still start shit. [as a female] “That shit looks self-inflicted.” This motherfucker shot himself, because he don’t want to argue with a real bitch tonight.” That dancey-dance bullshit.
So, I know how to goddamn act. I’m sick of explaining shit. Talking about my acting. I’ve been in some real shit. I’m tired of people asking me about it. I don’t know the answers you all want. “Why did they kill you in Empire?” “Motherfucker, I don’t know!” “We like Empire. That’s a good show. Why’d they kill you? Are they gonna bring you back?” “Yes.” “Are they?” “I don’t know.” If I knew I was gonna die that day, would I have shown up to work? I knew something was gonna happen because I went to the table-read, and in Hollywood, that’s where everybody gets a script, and I had no script. [audience laughing] “Yo, Taraji, you got a script?” [as a female] “Yeah, boo.” “Yo, drip-drippety-drop, nigga. You got a script?” “Yeah, I got a script.” [moaning] I liked the role because it showed a different side of what I can do. I like stepping out of the comedy to show I got that dramatic side. So, I was upset when I died on the show. I was upset. As I was leaving, Terrence Howard tried to talk to me. I was like, “I don’t want to talk to this nigga.” He’s one of the greatest actors on Earth. His advice would probably be great. But, “No, not right now, nigga. I just died.” [as Terrence Howard] “DeRay, what you want to do? Let me explain what you should do. Because if I was in the same situation you were in, what I would do–” “Nigga, you really talk like that?” “Yeah, I don’t know.” “Are you about to cry?” “I’m about to don’t know what. [muttering] “Can you breathe?” “I don’t know. You keep asking questions and interrupting.” “Stop doing that.” “Somebody put my voice on vibrate a long time ago. They never took my voice off vibrate. Sometimes I fade out.” “What? [quietly muttering] What? What?” [as Howard] “Sometimes…” “What?” [as Howard] “Exactly.” “Stop.” [as Howard] “Sometimes people put it on.” “Nigga, just text me.” Then he sent me a text, it was like… [muttering incoherently] [chuckling] This nigga’s emojis were shaking. I was like… [groans] [as Howard] “Don’t think I’m playing with you, I’m tried to tell the motherfucker not to do this shit.” “Did your voice just fade out, nigga?” What if you want to say something important? “Don’t go down there, they gonna kill you.” “What are they gonna do? [mutters softly] They’re gonna kill me?” “That’s it.” “Nigga!”
But I was excited. Because you get excited about anything you feel God blessed you with. So, I was happy to be on the show. Plus, I didn’t audition. John Singleton called me, and put me on the show. Singleton said, “I know you can act. I want you to play Cookie’s crazy cousin. I said, “I got that.” And we were filming in Chicago! I got to go home. I was doing a tour, I landed late, I didn’t know where we were shooting until I saw it. And I said, “John, we might not want to shoot around here.” He was, like, “Why?” I said, “Because they be shooting around here.” He said, “No, I’m John Singleton. Listen to me. Writer-producer-director, Baby Boy. Writer-producer-director, Boyz n the Hood. Writer-producer-director, Poetic Justice. Writer-producer-director. I direct, you act! Go act!” I said, “Shit, all right. I’m just sayin.’ Shit. So, we get ready to do the scene, and they give me the gun. John said, “Make sure it’s full loads.” I said, “What the–?” They want quarter- or half-loads. I’m educating the people. When you do a TV show… they want a half- or quarter-load because you shoot in residential areas. And, in post, they put in the sound, “Pop, pop!” But John said, “I want authenticity. I want that shit to let off. Give him the full load. Sounds like a real gun.” I said, “Let’s get it!” I take the gun. He said, “Action!” Pull up to the light, let the dude have it. [imitates gun] He said, “Cut! Beautiful! Then you heard, “Pop… pop, pop…” [chuckles] John said, “Cut.” I said, “Nigga, that ain’t us.” [audience laughing, clapping] They said, “Pack it up. Let’s get out of here. One take is fine.” I said, “You said ‘authenticity'” “DeRay, get your ass in the car. We ain’t got insurance for this shit. We ain’t about to battle this shit with blanks, nigga.”
Which is terrible, and I should be embarrassed. Because my city… Chicago is not Chi-Raq. It is not built on murders. Chicago is a fly-ass city, with fly dudes who produce motherfuckers like this. And shit like that. Beautiful women. Pimping at an all-time high. Yes, um… Organized crime, if there was crime. The first gangs in the world, but organized as gangs against people who were trying to fuck up the communities, originally. Be we’re not just known for guns. That’s why it bothers me when President Dude says shit about us. Yes, “President Dude.” I will not say his name and give him power. “President Dude.” Not on this… Not on DeRay’s platform. He said, “I’m gonna send the feds to Chicago and get all the guns.” Nigga, show me. You gonna get all the guns? Nigga! It’s a two-gun minimum to live in Chicago.
Chicago’s so bad, the First 48 ain’t never been there. All them murders, all them episodes, not one in Chicago. They drive right through that bitch. “Everyone’s dead, everyone did it. Let’s go. In Detroit, they drive right through that bitch.” It’s fucked up. I try not to watch First 48, because it’s black-on-black crime. You’re like, “It’s us again.” But I can’t turn it off. Because I turn it on and there’s a nigga in the interrogation room doing a horrible job at trying to live. They love acting it out. They’re in the room, “Why you got me down here?” They re-enact their own shit. “I was in the car, asleep, right? I woke up.” “What happened, Tay-Tay?” “I’m in the car, asleep. I woke up. I look around, I don’t know where we’re at.” “So, did you know Charles?” “Charles… Charles, Charles, Chuck, C-Dawg, Chuck?” “Yeah, that Charles.” “Yeah, I know him. Like, kind of, not really know him.” “So, do you know him?” “I know, I know him. My mama knew his mama, and their mamas knew each other’s mamas. Then, we know each other.” “Charles is dead.” “Don’t say that, man!” “Don’t say that, man! Who shot him?” -“We didn’t say he was shot.” -“Wait a minute. Hold up! Are you trying to put this on me? Don’t put his on me!” “So, you don’t know what happened?” “No, I told you! I’m like this, right? Then I go like this. Then I’m, like, “We’re at Charles’s house.” “I thought you just said you didn’t know where you were.” “I didn’t until you said Charles was dead. I was, like, ‘Must be Charles’s house!'”
But, ultimately, you can’t get all the guns in Chicago. It doesn’t work like that. We are a violent city. I admit to it. When I was little, we played violent games. We didn’t play “Duck, Duck, Goose.” We played “Duck, Nigga, Duck!” “They’re shooting, nigga! Duck!” We didn’t play catch and kiss a girl, hide-and-seek. We played a game called “Stole On.” That was our shit. “Stole On.” You walk behind your boy, and he isn’t paying attention… Pssht, “Stole on!” And he has to repeat it after you hit him. “Stole on. Got stole on.” “Shit.” The game had no meaning, but it was fun. Pshht, “Stole on, nigga! Stole on!” That nigga got stole on. Shit.”
I had a cousin. I think he was gay. We were playing Stole On, he made a weird sound and fucked us all up. Like, pshht! “Stole on, nigga! Stole on!” He was, like, [moans] “Stole on.” “Oh, shit.” My boy said, “What kind of sound is that?” I said, “I don’t know.” “Uh-uh, that’s your cousin.” “He’s just here for the summer.” “Stole on! Stole on!” [moans] “Stole on!” I said, “Carl, stop making that sound! We both won’t be allowed to play!” “Don’t be mad because I’m winning.” “Stop! You can’t win this game!” “You can’t if you’re not a winner.” “Stop it!”
We played guns. Before we had guns, we played imaginary guns. “Pop-pop, nigga.” Whenever you played “Cops and Robbers,” nobody ever wanted to be the police. “You’re all the police.” “Fuck that! You’re all the police!” Fuck it, then. We’re playing “Robbers and Robbers.”
When you play imaginary guns in the hood, nobody ever wants to get shot. You be right up on a nigga. “Bah!” “You missed.” “Nigga! I just blew your brains out! Didn’t I blow his brains out? There’s always a kid, “He did blow your brains out, dawg.” Kids make up bullshit. “Okay, you blew my brains out. I went to the hospital and got my brains fixed. I’m back.” “You can’t get your brains fixed! I hate killing you!” Everybody’s playing imaginary guns. Pop, pop, pop…pop. My boy walks up with an imaginary shotgun. Ch-ch, boom! Nigga’s like, “Oh Shit! Where you get that?” [audience laughs] He was like, “My daddy got it for me.” We was like, “Damn! We’re really imagining. He got a daddy now, y’all!” [audience roars] Then everyone starts saying, “I want a daddy, too!” “I got a strong daddy!” “No no, I got a tall daddy!” One of my boys says, “My daddy got a job!” I was like, “Nigga… You’re fucking the game up. Next, you’re gonna say he’s coming to pick you up.” [audience laughs] Everybody’s playing imaginary guns. Pop pop, pop, pop. Ch-ch, boom! He comes crawling around the corner. “What y’all playing?” My boy says, “We’re not fucking with Carl.” He’s gonna do that [moans] “Stole On” shit. I said, “Carl, we can’t play with you.” “Why can’t I play?” “We’re playing ‘Guns and Gangsters’ now. Pop, pop! You want to do that ‘Stole On’ shit. We ain’t doing that any more!” “I can play Guns and Gangsters”. “No! Pop, pop! Shit is real out here, Carl.” “I’m gonna go tell.” “Fuck! Goddammit, Carl. Fuck! [audience laughs] All right, you can play, but it’s ‘Guns and Gangsters’, you understand? ‘Pop, pop!’ only, motherfucka. Pew. No ricochet, no shit like that. He said, “Don’t worry about my weapon,” and disappeared. “What the fuck?” I was, like, “Where the hell is Carl at?” Two hours pass. We’re out there, playing forever. We’re running out of bullets. [chuckles] [audience laughing] Okay, it was starting to get dark. We had to go home. I can’t go home without that nigga. I’m like, “Where the hell is Carl at?” Carl comes around the corner with an imaginary bow-and-arrow. “Stole on, stole on, stole on.” My boy said, “I think it went through my leg!” I said, “Don’t entertain this nigga!” He was killing us with the best gay weapons ever. “Move out the way! Grenade! Mm, and boom.” Everybody laid on the ground. I said, “I might was well lay down.” I’m gonna lay down. This nigga won. He really won. “Stole on!”
Then the President Dude said, “You know what? I’m gonna change the gun laws. So strict, they’re gonna wish I didn’t.” That’s a white threat. “We’ll change the gun laws.” Gun laws? Do you think… That shit is hilarious. Do you think street niggas give a shit about gun laws? Do you think two niggas meet in an alley, “Hey, nigga! What’s the gun law this week?” Black people don’t care about laws. Black people don’t care about laws. We weren’t there when they made them. Black people don’t know about the Constitution. You don’t. We pretend we do. We know, “We the people”. We know freedom of speech, but niggas don’t know the Constitution. The Constitution ain’t barbershop talk. You won’t hear two niggas arguing, “I bet it does say that. I got the scroll in my pocket!” Cut the scroll in my hair, show this nigga what it’s about.
We don’t know laws. Black people don’t find out about laws until we break them. If you don’t believe me, go to any criminal court and sit there all day. And watch how confused niggas look at their charges. “What’s all this shit? Yes, I had the gun. What’s the other shit around it?” Niggas look at charges like they fucked up a food order. “I had the gun, what’s all the other shit? No relish, no tomatoes, no onion, no fleeing. None of that shit is me, okay? I’ll take the gun. I will take that.”
No, black people don’t respect laws. Black people respect signs. They respect the fuck out of a sign. I don’t know what it is about a sign that gets our attention. “Nigga, move! You don’t see the sign that says not to stand there?” If you put a sign up that says “Don’t kill niggas,” niggas won’t kill niggas. [groaning] “I was about to murder a nigga. Who put that sign up? [groaning] How long that sign been there?” “I don’t know.” [grunting] A nigga will read a parking sign for 30 minutes before he parks. “Before 12:00, after 8:00, between the hours of 6:00 and 2:00. This shit looks like homework. Uh…” You talk to people you don’t even know. “Could you all come here for a second? When you look at this sign, what do you see?” You look at a sign like it’s fine art. “What do you see, looking at this sign? Klaus, what do you see?” “Everybody, gather around and look at the sign. Man, it’s like an eclipse. Look at the sign, everybody enjoy it.” The sign’s like Family Feud. Everybody gets in the corner. Everybody’s huddled up. “What you all think? What? Okay. Hey, Steve, we’ll take “Don’t Park” for $400.
Yeah. You want to respect that shit. But the gun laws don’t affect us. Gun laws are about other shit. If you want to change the gun laws, change the laws for the motherfuckers that’s fucking people up with guns. I mean, fucking people up. Mass murderers, terrorist-type shit. Look at a crazy motherfucker, and know that he’s crazy. We can’t do that. We don’t want to be profiled. Black people hate being profiled. We’re profile, and we don’t want to be profiled. We think everything’s because we’re black. “You’re pulling me over because I’m black.” “It’s nothing to do with the gun and cocaine on your seat?” “Ah.” “With the baby dancing in the back, dancing on the seat?” “My daddy got cocaine and a gun on his seat!”
Or racism. Everything’s racism or ISIS. No, no. Motherfuckers are just crazy. I don’t give a damn about racism. It doesn’t affect me, personally. People keep saying “Racism’s back,” like racism left. Like racism was a person at home. “Wait a minute. They’re getting along?” [audience laughing] “Racism, when did you come back?” “Just know I’m back. Shit’s about to change again!” No. We’ve been racist. Everybody’s racist. Some of you black people are racist. Quit playing. Some of you niggas got old-ass, 80- to 90-year-old grandparents who are racist as fuck. [deep voice] “Get this white bitch out of my house.” “Granddaddy, don’t act like that. You know that’s my wife.” [deep voice] “You get that white bitch out of here! You know I’m playing the lottery this week! Get her out of here! She’s fucking up my luck. Get the bitch out of here right now!” “The grand-kids miss you.” “Get them mixed motherfuckers out of here! Get them beebies out of here!” “Beebies?” “Babies! Get them out this bitch! Little babies motherfucker!” “They miss you.” “They miss me being a slave, nigga! That’s what they miss.” We gonna march here, right now, if I play these numbers.
So, I don’t want to hear about racism. There’s a decision to make. There’s jobs black people still don’t trust black people with. Obama had the best job in the world, who wouldn’t think it even exists. And still, there’s jobs niggas don’t trust niggas with. Ain’t that crazy? Obama. Cool-ass job. Walked in there, super-swaggy. Loves hip-hop, fade was dope as hell. On the way in, fly. On the way out, fly. He was freeing motherfuckers. Walked into jail, “Free goes your man.” “Nigga!” [audience laughs] He let Gucci Mane go. And still black people don’t trust black people with certain jobs. You walk into a tax office, and a nigga’s working there. [groaning] “I’m gonna go to the car, man. Do the math or something. I’ll be back.” Pull up to the club, there’s a black valet driver. [groans] “I’m gonna park it myself, Leroy.” “Leroy? My name ain’t no goddamn Leroy.” “You look like a Leroy.”
Black people don’t trust black people that look like a black person they didn’t trust. Want me to say it again slow for y’all? Did you all get it? Niggas don’t trust a nigga that looks like a nigga they didn’t trust. You look like my cousin. That nigga be robbing and stealing. This ain’t your face. Nothing against you. Nope.
But we need to profile the shit that’s fucked up. I like to call it the “shit-uations”. We need to profile the mothefuckers that really separate shit. These murdering motherfuckers. All we got to do is remember what we’re here for. I get it. “Black Lives Matter.” I’m here. I get it, 2,000 percent. All lives matter, I hear you. Nobody wants to die. But, goddammit, awareness matters. Go back to being aware. We’re not aware no more. -[applause] -We’re not looking for the crazy! When you were little, you looked for the crazy. “There goes that crazy motherfucker.” The nigga at the park with a bike and no wheels on it. On the see-saw by himself. “How’s he doing that?” -“I’m everyone’s parent.” -“No!” Call the motherfucker crazy. Somebody looks out of place, approach them. You could stop a terrorist act. “You look weird. What are you doing? You’re at a pool party with a fur coat on. Nigga, leave. You awkward.
Tell me one time you’ve seen a crazy thing happen that you didn’t look at the picture and say “Who let that crazy person in?” Come on, man. Shot up the movie theater? The movie theater where you’re chilling? I was pissed. Where was the awareness? Who the fuck sold him a ticket? He looked weird as fuck! And he was dressed like Batman, going to see Return of the Jedi. I wouldn’t have given him a ticket. “Go home. Even if you shot me, you still ain’t getting in.” No! But that’s not what we’re doing. Everybody’s just Snapchatting. Everybody cares about themselves. “Look, he’s gonna shoot me! Oh, shit! Nigga, I just got shot! Twice! Oh, shit! Now put the dog filter on me! [barking] Dead dog, dead dog. Nigga, tell me how many likes I die with.”
No, look for the crazy motherfucker. Miami. Dude at the airport lands, gets his bag, unzips it, and shoots people in the airport, while they’re getting their bags. That is some shit niggas prepare for. Nobody here is out of line. Nigga, if I was in that bitch, you’d have been shot. “I wish I were dead.” “No, you don’t. That ain’t your real wish.” You don’t know what you’re gonna do. You hear, “Pow pow!” You’re like, “Shit, this city’s crazy. He right here. Oh, shit!” And he looks crazy. Which means he looked crazy on the plane. Which means somebody sat next to him and didn’t go, “What’s your crazy-looking ass doing in Miami?” Because crazy people talk to you. “I want to kill people.” “Oh, yeah? Thank you. Ding! Miss? [shouting] Miss! [calmly] I’d like some peanuts, some cran-apple… [quietly shouting] That nigga crazy!” “What?” [shouting] “That nigga crazy! The nigga right next to me. That motherfucker right there. Bitch turn the air on, air off. [groans] The fucker’s nuts!
Awareness. Help each other. A white boy walks into a church in South Carolina. People worshiping God. Shot up the place. Immediately, “He’s racist! We saw swastikas!” No, no, no. He was fucking nuts. He was crazy. He wasn’t racist. He smoked weed with a nigga all that week. You don’t smoke weed with black people if you’re racist. You don’t want black lips on your blunt. He was crazy. Where was the awareness? I know lives were lost. Please forgive me. Anybody that lost someone that day, it’s fucked up. But let’s get the awareness up. A brand-new white dude showed up to a black church, who wasn’t Jesus. And nobody went to the door, “No new members today! You crazy motherfucker. Get the fuck out of here! Did he look crazy? Deacon, Deacon, he looked nuts, right?” I guarantee if I go to a Catholic church tonight and I stand outside like this… “Not today, my son. Get this motherfucker out of here.”
Yes, let’s be aware. Awareness is important. Orlando. Dude walked into that club and killed all them beautiful people enjoying themselves. Partying. Now, the problem. If you got a .22, you could sneak that into a club. A .380, maybe I’d have pulled it off. A 9mm, if you and your boy bump when they pat you down, I heard you can get one in. Just mental Atlanta in this bitch. But that ain’t what happened. He had that motherfucking… Who the– [stammers] Didn’t anybody in that parking see that motherfucker? You can’t miss that shit. This move is unmissable. Somebody had to see it. Somebody at home is guilty of not warning those people. People say, “Stop snitching,” but I’m telling. If you don’t know that motherfucker coming, I’m gonna go, “Hey! I know! Ha, ha! Yeah. My eyes are beautiful. I appreciate it. Listen! There’s a crazy motherfucker right now. He’s about to kill everybody. Get the fuck out of here. You’re welcome! I’m out this bitch. Let’s save some lives.
I was tripping, because they said it was a gay hate-crime in Orlando. That wasn’t a gay hate-crime. He was mad at himself because he was gay. That’s what happened. Yeah. Y’all ain’t got to think with me, but I think one of the dudes in there fucked him. Yup. Call it how you want to. I think one of the dudes in that club fucked him and then stopped fucking with him. Because gay dudes are harsher than women. “Oh, you thought this was a relationship? [raspberries] No, boo-boo. Be gone, be strong, so long!” “Nigga! What? What?” That’s crazy. Dick drove him crazy. Listen to those words. “Dick drove him crazy.” Which is nobody’s business because we all evolve as people. Whoever wants to make love or have sex or fuck who they want to fuck, that’s up to you. We all want different things as we grow. Who’s sexing who is none of our business. It’s like you worrying about how much air is in everybody’s tires when you driving. “That shit’s low. That’s all right, there. Is that a Hummer? He needs about 45 pounds per–” It’s none of your fucking business. But I’ll tell you this! Shit like that, that’s one of the main reasons I would never be gay. Shit like that. Yes, dick drove him crazy. And I know what my dick does to women. Yes. So, I’ll be damned if I run into a DeRay-Dick nigga. I’ll be outside another man’s house… “James!” James! Nigga ain’t even got no gum. James! I’m a Pisces, too. James!” Someone’s consoling me. “Just calm down.” “You calm down!”
Fuck that. No bet. No “a-dick-tion” for me. I just want everybody to be aware. I even tell my family. I tell my daughters, “Be aware.” My daughter’s an unaware motherfucker. A little, unaware nigga. She’s so different from me. I love her, but so different. You want your kids’ lives to be better but you still want them to have the hood in them. Does that make sense? Or am I fucking up? You want your kid to be fun and fun-loving but you want to be like, “Hey, Daddy, who’s that motherfucker over there?” “That ain’t nobody.” “Okay, back to my game!” But I’m, like, “Don’t trust that motherfucker.” [as a girl] “Dad, you don’t even know.” [mutters]
You don’t know these kids! Kids are different now! You call a kid “ugly,” “fat,” “stupid,” “tall,” “smart”… “You’re too handsome to be here.” That’s called “bullying.” When I was little, that shit was called “school.” You got roasted for no reason. “Yo fake-ass, Polo shirt, horse-on-one-side, man-on-the-other-ass nigga. Them Jordans, sitting-down-on-the-side-of-your-shoe, waiting-to-get-in-the-game-ass nigga. Your-daddy-ain’t-been-home in-four-months nigga.” Niggas roasted you. You ran home, “Mama, what did you tell them niggas?”
But you can’t roast kids now. Kids get upset. That kid who got talked about, He was like, “Fuck this.” Went home during lunch, walked five miles home. Went in his mama’s room, got the gun, went back to the school, and shot the kids up. I was baffled. Like, “Damn!… This nigga gets to go in his mama’s room?” [audience laughing] Mamas are different now! Not my mama. “You don’t need shit out of this motherfucker! Who the fuck been in my goddamn room? I know you been in here! My carpet’s laid down different! And you’ve been in my quarters. Three are missing! It was a 1976… a 1976…” [chuckling] That bitch knew the years on the quarters. “It was a 1976 quarter. That one had a ship on the back. I got that quarter from your uncle.” “We gotta get the quarters back, nigga! Return the cookies! Return the cookies!”
I snuck in my mama’s room one time, because I wanted to taste a Pepsi. I had never tasted one. And my white friend said they were delicious. I knew black mamas had all the brand shit in their rooms. She got good shit in there. We’re all drinking and eating that bullshit. “Who baked this shit?” “The store.” Drinking that bullshit-ass soda. Red soda pop, black cherry, cream soda, fucking your stomach up. You don’t even know why you’re sick the next morning. “What’s wrong?” Tastes like Alka Seltzer with food coloring in it. With a splash of honey. My cousin pumped me up. He said, “You deserve to taste Pepsi, too. Ain’t those supposed to be your food stamps, too?” I said, “Sure is.” I ran into my mama’s room, so nervous. I slid under the bed, next to the Pepsis. I couldn’t open the can, I was so nervous. I just bit that bitch. I bit into the goddamn… Blood and aluminum ran down my throat. But it was delicious. To this day, I still crave aluminum now and then. To show myself I made it.
But awareness is important. I grew up staying aware, to this day. I was at a club in LA, enjoying myself. The music was great. A mix of old school and new school. I’m outside the club, talking to three beautiful women. “DeRay, we want to go back to your place.” I said, “Shit, I never heard that before.” Yes, I lied. And, um… While we’re talking, two girls across the street start arguing. [as a female] “Fuck you, bitch! You stupid-ass bitch!” “You ain’t doing shit, bitch!. You’re a raggedy-ass bitch!” I said, “That ain’t got nothing to do with me. Let ’em live.” Then their boyfriends start arguing. “You better get your girl! Get your ugly-ass girl, nigga!” I said, “That’s got nothing to do with me. Let it live over there.”
Then he said two words you don’t want to hear outside a club. [shouting] “All right, watch this!” I said, “Huh?” White people, if you’re watching this right now, know whenever two niggas arguing, and one says “Watch this,” don’t watch. He ain’t trying to teach you a dance. Get the fuck out of there. One of them came around the corner, firing. Fop, fop, fop, fop, fop, fop! I said, “Fuck!” Everybody outside the club dropped to the ground. Like the nigga shooting couldn’t aim down. Say what you want about DeRay, “Bitch-ass nigga from Chicago, that’s light-skin shit.” Shit, I made a motherfucking people-carpet out of all them motherfuckers. I stepped on legs, thighs, wings, all that shit. Lace fronts, new fronts, new Jordans, old Jordans. I ran across them all. True shit! I ran through the motherfuckers, ran back into the club, went into the bathroom, pulled my pants down, acted like I was shitting. I always thought as a kid, a dude wouldn’t kill a dude who was shitting. “I’m shitting!” “Oh, no disrespect.” He’ll leave because it’s disrespectful. While I was in there on the toilet, like, “Oh, man. Oh, man.” The door opened. I’m like, “Fuck. Fuck!” I see the feet walking in. Real shit. I said, “Fuck.” And the dude was, like, [whispering] “Fuck. Shit.” I opened the door, it was a dude who had got shot. I said, “Hey, what’s up?” He said, “Nigga, I feel it travelling.” And then he said, “I hate when this happens.” “Nigga? This ain’t the first time?” He says, “Call my girl. I don’t to go out like this. I want her to know I love her.” I was like, “All right.” “I don’t know what to say.” “Call my girl.” I was like, “Fuck.” I called the number. He’s like “Talk for me.” I said, “Hello?” She said, “Hey, baby.” I said, “No! He’s next to me. He got shot.” “Oh, my God. Where you at?” “We’re at the club.” And the nigga said, “Mm-mm! Mm-mm! Mm-mmm!” I said, “What?” [low voice] “We’re at the pool hall!” “What?” “The pool hall, nigga!” Like, what? [deep voice] Give me my phone! “Hello, baby! Baby!” [chuckling]
Awareness is important. Be aware of everything. Be aware. They say the end of the world is coming. Show me. I don’t think it’s the end. I think we’re right in the middle. Animals think it’s the end. Animals don’t give a shit no more. Crocodiles eating babies at fucking theme parks. The crocodile ate the baby! And the family said, “We just want to grieve. We’re not going to sue.” I was, like, “Shit! I’m suing, nigga. When I come back there’s gonna be a DeRay ride in this bitch!” What the fuck?
Animals don’t give a fuck no more. You see that gorilla drag that little boy? “Whose little baby is this right here? Whose baby?” [muttering] Scared the fuck out of everybody. “Which one of you bitches left this motherfucker? Ain’t nobody gonna say shit? I’m mopping the goddamn floor with this little nigga and nobody’s gonna say something?” And black people were surprised. You’re like, “Look, another little white baby fell at the zoo.” When you see it’s a black baby, it’s like “Oh, shit! He’s black!” And white people say, “See? It can happen. It’s about time! We were wondering.” I was so happy that little nigga got dropped. I was! Hey, fuck, say what you want to say, I was happy that little nigga got dropped on his bad ass. I heard he told his mama twice that he was getting in the gorilla pit. “I’m about to go with the gorillas.” She said, “You better not!” “Bitch, what are you gonna do when I do it?” Nothing happened to him. I was pissed off. Not a scratch, not a bite, not a broken bone. Nothing happened to him. I was mad as fuck. The parent in me was mad, because no life lesson was learned. Life lessons are important. That little motherfucker is gonna be a problem when he grows up. You ain’t gonna be able to tell him shit! Third grade, 10-years-old, cursing teachers out. “Bitch, I’ve been with the gorillas!” [grunting] “Calm down.” [hooting] “Who are you talking to, bitch? You don’t tell Caesar to calm down, bitch. You don’t tell Caesar to calm down. Better put your hand out, bitch, and get rubbed. Put your hand out. Show a palm, bitch. Hoo, ha! Hoo, ha. Fuck your… [pants] …A-B-Cs, bitch!” I wish the fuck I had fell in that pit. If my mama, my ghetto-ass, broke-ass, barely-fucking-making-it mama she took a day off to take me to the zoo… and I fall in the pit? Nigga, on accident or on purpose, the minute I land, I turn around, “My nigga, you gotta keep me! [audience laughing] I’m your baby, now. Me gorilla, too. She’s crazy. She’ll come down here, whup me, and whup you, too. Drag foot. Hurt. Hurt.” I wish I’d fallen in that pit, and nothing happened to me. I don’t need no medical attention. And I’m embarrassed to let this motherfucking zoo… “Got these white people thinking I’m gonna take care of your monkey ass? No other kid fell, no other kid fell, but you’re all close to the edge and shit! Like you ain’t got no goddamned sense! In those goddamned school clothes I just bought you. I’m fucking you up. Because you think it’s a game. I got your ass.” That whole ride home, you’re nervous as fuck. She’s in the rear-view, looking dead at you. Talking to your auntie. “Yeah, it was that nigga all in that pit! Like I’m gonna take care of his monkey-ass! Probably wanted a banana, his greedy ass, like his daddy. I’m gonna show this nigga an ‘animal’ when we get home. Watch me! Watch me show you!” You’re at home, waiting on that whooping. [groans] [mock sobs] Knocking over shit in your room that doesn’t matter. Your toys. Ha, ha. Punching the mattress. [grunts] Trying to get your brothers and sisters on your side. [sobbing] “Listen, listen, listen, listen, listen, listen… Do I even like the zoo? Did I want to go to the zoo? Did I want to go? Do I ever want to go to the zoo? I was sleeping. “Do you want to go to the zoo?” I said okay. Okay!” They’re trying not to touch you. “No, please. If you get a whupping, we all get a whupping. She said she’s gonna show you her animal, nigga! She ain’t never said that before.” [groans] “Just help me!” “We can’t help you now. You fell in the pit. You almost died, so now you’re getting a whupping.” When you’re thinking your mama is gonna forget about that shit, you hear her coming up the stairs, “Hey, zookeeper!”
Awareness. Those were the fun times, though. It’s not fun no more. Those were the times when you didn’t have to be aware of even the police. You didn’t. As a young black kid, you wouldn’t worry about getting killed. You wouldn’t. Shit’s weird now. Now you gotta be aware of them, too. It’s scary, the police shooting people. Making horrible fucking decisions. I’m not saying all police. There’s good police. There’s police that make good decisions. Domestic violence, both of you got a black eye. “Go to bed.” [audience laughing] That’s a good cop. [chuckles] “Looks about even, go to sleep.” Not all police are bad, but the ones that are bad make it look bad for everybody. They do. And I’m scared of the retaliation. There’s been a couple times– We’ve seen it. Innocent people get killed, and innocent police get killed. And we felt bad for them. If you had a heart, you did. Like, “She was just sitting in the car.” Black woman, sitting in a car, gets shot. That’s not cool. I don’t want to get shot at my job because someone else did some shit. Nigga, I barely want to work. That dude in Dallas was shooting at police so accurately, they shot it was four shooters. Like, your ass whupped by one dude, go home, “Baby, I got jumped!” And I’m not making light of the lives that were lost. I’m not. Because they were some brave-ass police. They heard over the radio that a sniper was shooting just the police. And those motherfuckers stayed the police. Me, on that night– Nigga, I was… I would have been out there in just my drawers, with a radio. “Kssh. Over. Y’all catch him yet? Over.” “Davis is that you?” “By the gas station, naked. Yes, sir. I suggest everybody get naked.”
Because it’s fucked up. This is what I think part of the problem is. They’re hiring police and placing them in the wrong place. This is not your area. That’s why shit it happening. You can’t be a policeman in the hood if you don’t know nothing about the hood. -[applause] -It’s only fair. Do a little research. Know something. You can’t pull me over if you don’t know Migos, nigga. “They’re pulling a nigga over! What are you pulling me over for, over for, over for? What are you pulling me over for, over for, over for? Step out the car, don’t make a sound, lay on the ground. Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!” You gotta know some shit like that. You gotta know a little hood. I think if there was a policeman from the hood in these situations, a life would have been saved. I think so. Because a hood cop is not going to choke you to the ground, and when you say you can’t breathe, keeps choking. A hood cop will hear you say you can’t breathe, and say “I got your ass! Remember this, nigga. You couldn’t breathe!” A hood cop will walk up while a man’s selling DVDs outside a store. They’re not gonna wrestle him to the ground, and then shoot him. And it goes viral. A hood cop is gonna walk up and say, “Hey, man. The store owner don’t want you here, but what movies do you got? Shit, this ain’t even out, nigga! Aliens: Forever? Nigga! Give me all this shit and get out of here. I’ll get 10 movies tomorrow.” Even if you’re not getting 10 movies, they know how to defuse a situation. Because if you’re not hood, shit looks scary to you! You think a lion walk through the jungle, sees another lion, and be, like… [shrieks] No. No.
You’re not from the hood, so shit looks scary. You pull past some dudes fucking around, and he’s like, “What’s up, police? What’s up?” “Shit! Pow! Shit, he looked aggressive. Didn’t he look aggressive?” “He did look aggressive to me. Did he to you?” “He looked aggressive to me.” “Okay, on ‘three’. One, two, three, ‘Aggressive!'” It fucks you up, doesn’t it? They visualize it different. A hood cop sees that different. Walk up, see the same hood dudes, “What’s up, police? What’s up?” “Cool off or I’ll taze your ass right here.” “Hood recognize hood. Don’t taze me, man! I was just bullshitting.” I’m playing. I was gonna give you my mix tape. My nigga! We shouldn’t be scared of the police. Shouldn’t be afraid of the police. You know what I do now, when I get pulled over by the police? Call the police. “Hello, there’s a strange man outside my window. He has a gun. Uh… [chuckles] He wants me to step out of the car. What did you say? Don’t step out? Y’all say ‘Don’t step out'” My police shows up, shakes his hand. “Shit, they know each other!” Call some more. “Hello.” “Yes, can you send a Negro cop, please? Thank you.”
You ever get pulled over by a black cop that wasn’t a “black” black cop? “What’s up, family?” “I ain’t your family.” “Oh, shit. Hello! Y’all sent the nigga from Get Out. Can y’all please send… a regular nigga. Yeah, regular. Yeah. Preferably, last name ‘Washington.’ Yes, thanks.”
Awareness. You used to be scared of the police because you were scared of the consequences of being pulled over. “I can’t get pulled over now, I got dope in the trunk.” “Can’t get pulled over, I gotta get these kids.” “Can’t get pulled over, the bitch ain’t gonna believe I got pulled over.” I was coming home from the club on a Wednesday. It was late as fuck. My girl like, “Why are you so late?” I was like, “The police pulled me over, but they just gave me a warning.” She was like, “Oh, for real?” I was like, “Yeah.” She was like, “Okay.” I came home Thursday, late again. This time, I really got pulled over. The police said, “I’ll let you go with a warning.” I was like, “Nigga! I’m gonna need a ticket! This bitch ain’t gonna believe I got two warnings! What do I gotta do to get a ticket?” I hit him in the face. “Stole on, nigga! Come on!” You can’t go home to no black woman with two warnings. [as a female] “So, all they did is ‘warn’ you, huh? I see what we’re doing, now. Cool! I’m going out all next week. I’ma get ‘warned’ every night, nigga!”
It’s a damn shame to be more scared of your woman than the number-one threat to black men in America, the police. You’re more scared of your woman! Isn’t that crazy? You pay all the bills, take care of everything, but you’re scared. You’ll fight eight dudes to defend her honor, but scared to come home late. If you pull up to dark house when you know you’re late, and the light comes on? “This bitch is up.” You know she’s in the house, starting shit up with herself, the way women do. That’s why women get so mad. They start shit with themselves. They’re making themselves mad. [groans] Talking to themselves. “He thinks I’m a stupid-ass bitch.”
You ever argue with your woman, she turns and talk to someone who ain’t there? “You think I’m a dumb-ass bitch?” “He thinks I am!” “Who the fuck are you talking to? Who else is here?” I got in an argument with an argument ninja one time, she was so good. She literally dodged my bullshit. I’ve never seen this in my life. “You’re telling me you don’t know that bitch?” I said, “I don’t know her!” She said, “Whoa! You almost hit me with that bullshit. Because I know you know that whore!” “What the fuck? Did you just duck?”
You all know you’re crazy, too! Look, they know they’re crazy, they’re laughing. Sitting right next to you. [cackles] And it’s okay? It’s wild that women’s crazy is accepted, but ours isn’t. And we have nobody to help us. Women got their girlfriends to help them. If our boy is acting crazy, we let him know, at least. If your boy is acting crazy, “Hey, man! Nigga! You’re out of character right now!” “Straight up. I’m clowning?” “You clowning.” “Thank you. Take me home.” “Come on, man.” Women don’t care if a girlfriend’s acting crazy. They don’t give a fuck. Because crazy bitches can’t see other crazy bitches. Its like The Walking Dead. A zombie doesn’t see another zombie. You never see a zombie say, “What’s up, nigga?” [groaning] “You’re dead, too?” That’s how crazy women are.
You wonder why we keep our phones away from y’all. Fuck y’all. Because we know you’re gonna find something wrong in there. Man don’t even let women plug their phones in anymore. “Baby, I’ll plug in the charger.” “I got it, bitch.” Every man’s got that long-ass charger, now. It’s so long, nigga’s at the club is charging his phone from home. “I got this shit.” “I keep my battery on ’99’ because these be on ‘100’.” You think your woman ain’t got your cellphone code, you’re the dumbest man breathing. How do they figure it out? “His birthday divided by his graduation number divided by his license plate. Boop, boop. I got that shit!”
We use our fingerprints now! We don’t trust our own codes. We’re willing to give our information to the government rather than your girl getting your shit. And she tries to get that shit! You’re asleep, you feel your hand moving. “Bitch, let go of my hand!” “I wanted to cuddle.” “You didn’t want to cuddle, bitch! You had my index finger extended! I can’t trust you!” “You can trust me!” “Fuck, no! Now I got to sleep with oven mitts on this motherfucker! ” Gotta sleep with boxing gloves on. I can’t trust.” “This nigga put boxing gloves on, bitch. What should I do?”
I know it’s our fault, though. It’s our fault. We always get to wandering. That technology gets you to wandering. Instagram. “That bitch is bad, goddamn. Goddamn! How many times can I like the same picture?” A nigga’s willing to break their finger on a picture. “Goddamn! This picture’s amazing!” Twitter, gotta follow, Snapchat. “This bitch, here! Look at this bitch!” Any new technology, man fucks with it. That waterproof phone came out. “Nigga!” The waterproof phone? Men were immediately shower-talking other bitches. “Hello, other hoes! I don’t have to leave my phone out there no more! Ha-ha! What am I doing? I’m washing my balls, getting ready for your jaws, bitch! Yes! [cackles] You know how it is! I’m doing what I do for you! Ha-ha!” Niggas were macking other bitches underwater. [trilling, gargling] “I’m single!” Crazy black girl is looking for your ass. “Who are you talking to? Who the fuck are you talking to?” “You can’t swim.” “I don’t care!” “You’re going to drown.” “I don’t care!” “You’re gonna fuck up your hair.” “Uh-uh, Team Natural!”
I’m DeRay Davis. I appreciate every one of y’all. [cheering, applause] [hip-hop music playing] [audience chanting] DeRay! DeRay! DeRay! DeRay! DeRay! DeRay! DeRay! DeRay! DeRay! DeRay! DeRay!