That's right, you jive-ass punk. Don't be coming to the Hip Pocket talking that shit, you...

[Black Dynamite enters the Hip Pocket billiard hall, where Chicago Wind and his gang confront him] Chicago Wind:
So you must be Black Dynamite. Black Dynamite:
[Realizing that Cream Corn had warned Chicago Wind of his arrival]
Cream Corn, you jive mother. Chicago Wind, I presume. Chicago Wind:
Your presumption is correct, nigga. If you presumed that I killed your brother Jimmy, then you presume wrong. Not that it means shit to me. Either way, shit. I wish I'd had killed that nigga myself. Somebody else beat me to it. Black Dynamite:
Is that so? Well, Chicago Wind, what do you know about this? [Black Dynamite pulls the bullet casing from his pocket and throws it to Chicago Wind] Chicago Wind:
Some heavy shit. but dig. [Chicago Wind throws the bullet casing back to Black Dynamite] Chicago Wind:
Let me explain something to you, supernigga. I don't answer questions. I ask them. Even if I did know who killed that brother of yours, what would make you think I'm gonna tell you? Get your black ass out of my joint before we beat you like a rented mule. [Black Dynamite shakes his head in disapproval and walks away] Thug #1:
That's right, you jive-ass punk. Don't be coming to the Hip Pocket talking that shit, you dig? That's right, nigga. Don't ever, ever come back... [Black Dynamite turns the open/closed sign in front of the hall to closed and shuts the metal gates before throwing a couple of thugs out the window and fighting the rest of the gang]