You going back to DC after this? No, man. Working on this alias for this project I've got...

Agent Baker: You going back to DC after this? Malcolm Little: No, man. Working on this alias for this project I've got in Vegas next year. Cat I like to call Beanie. Ghetto retard, barely educated, brought up in a gang environment. Agent Baker: Oh, that should be a pretty easy transition for you, then. Malcolm Little: What? I fucking hate hip-hop. Agent Baker: You hate hip-hop? Come on. Malcolm Little: Oh, what? A black man can't hate hip-hop? I bet you tell me my favorite food's watermelon. I just can't live without chicken, huh? Just gonna snatch up my brother badge if I ain't bumping some hip-hop. Agent Baker: You're putting words in my mouth. Malcolm Little: Hey, man, listen to me. Hip-hop is the unwanted bastard son of superior musical forms like jazz, blues. These kids don't know anything about Louis Armstrong, Miles Davis, Dizzy Gillespie, but hey, when it's required of me, [imitating gangsta-speak] Malcolm Little: I be pulling hos out the club, flashing knots and nines on these niggas. You know how I do, pimp. [cocks shotgun] Agent Baker: Like I said, should be a pretty easy transition for you.