Pulp Fiction lyrics

The Breakfast scene of Pulp Fiction)

BRETT: Yes
JULES: Describe what Marsellus Wallace looks like!
BRETT: What?
(Jules takes his .45 and PRESSES the barrel HARD in Brett's cheek.)
JULES: Say "What" again! C'mon, say "What" again! I dare ya, I double dare ya, Mother f*cka say "What" one more goddamn time!
BUCCI: You won't
BRETT: Well he's ...he's...black --
JULES: -- go on!
BRETT: ...and he's...he's...bald --
BUCCI: You won't say what
JULES:-- does he look like a b*tch?!
BRETT: (without thinking) What?
(Jules' SHOOTS Brett in the shoulder.)
BUCCI: DAMN HE’S REAL
JULES: does he look like a b*tch?
BRETT: NO!
JULES: so why’d you try to f*ck him like a b*tch Brett?
BRETT: I didn't
JULES: Yes you did, yes you did Brett, you tried to f*ck him, and Marsellus Wallace don’t like to be f*cked by anybody except Miss Wallace


(whispered) f*ck AN AD LIB

I'm sure there's 101 things you could be doing better
The weathers cold as sh*t and n*ggas still wanna sweat er’
And shes kinda only average like a 7 or whatever
And i'm not chasing hoes my f*ckin pops taught me better
f*ck chasing thots n*gga i'm chase cheddar
All you faggots all you faggots are acting real tender
You n*ggas is all pretenders
f*ck the laws and f*ck the public defender
Under the influence of music from 1980 whatever
I'm still the top contender
With lines smoother then a blender
Why women crush Wednesday look like she changed genders?
Oops did i offend her
Sorry i don't give a f*ck, like rich folks in fender benders
Gun bans are a trap ask the N.R.A
And all your are txts are private right N.S.A
And i'm trying to get rich like Saddam Hussein
Running through life like n*gga f*ck a sprain

Lifes a game, right?
Right?
Right?
I think!
I think!
I think!
I think!
I think! I think! I think! I think! I Thot