Fight Club is a 1999 American film based on the 1996 novel of the same name by Chuck Palahniuk. The film was directed by David Fincher and stars Edward Norton, Brad Pitt, and Helena Bonham Carter. Norton plays the unnamed protagonist, an "everyman" who is discontented with his white-collar job. He forms a "fight club" with soap maker Tyler Durden, played by Pitt, and becomes embroiled in a relationship with him and a dissolute woman, Marla Singer, played by Bonham Carter.
Palahniuk's novel was optioned by 20th Century Fox producer Laura Ziskin, who hired Jim Uhls to write the film adaptation. Fincher was one of four directors the producers considered and hired him because of his enthusiasm for the film. Fincher developed the script with Uhls and sought screenwriting advice from the cast and others in the film industry. The director and the cast compared the film to Rebel Without a Cause (1955) and The Graduate (1967). Fincher intended Fight Club's violence to serve as a metaphor for the conflict between a generation of young people and the value system of advertising. The director copied the homoerotic overtones from Palahniuk's novel to make audiences uncomfortable and keep them from anticipating the twist ending.
Fight fight for you or I'llFight with you
If you want me to stop
Implore me if you
Wanna fight fight our way
Back to the place where we came from
Back where they don't care
At all
About the drinks and shakes
And the morning
Tell me I'm boring
Well, I'll gladly show you wrong
I'll gladly show you everything I know
But you wait too long
I'm done, and you
Well you missed your first chance
At maybe
Having some fun tonight
You want the fun?
Than why'd we
Fight fight at all
Why'd you make me fall
On the ground and
Writhe writhe around
Like the yellow snake that
Sits upon your crown
Of wealth
And beauty
Oh, you're a beauty
But I don't want you to
Beautify anything
No I'm fine
I'm set
But want to make me
Fight fight for
Why? when you do
Not want to
Fight fight at all
And who do you think you are, tall?
No, hardly
You can't tell me
What I hardly want to do
I'll hardly be with you
I hardly want to see you
Fight fight your way around
With him
Why do you fight at all?
Why do you pout why don't you crawl
Right right here
And never ever ever ever do it
Ch, ch, ch, ch, yeah
Terror Squad, First Family
Ahh!
(Yeah!)
You see them diamonds glisterin' off that three quarterla
That them there polyester
(Uh, nigga)
Ya heard me?
(What the fuck, what the fuck, huh?)
(Terror Squad, First Family)
Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh!
Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh!
Yeah, yeah uh
Yo it's that motherfuckin' Bronx nigga Don shit
Run up in yo' mom's crib
Ship stacked biddomb shit, gun up in the palm shit
Nobody moves, nobody get whacked with the contract
Yo' shot at they concert, it's locked on the concrete
I'm Stone Cold, I mean I slap then stomp
Then what's to stop my .40 glock from rumblin' your calm streets?
I'm troubled when I on deep, loco enough for Dolo
Blow holes in ya car seat and roll over ya Rover
Fuck this role model shit, I'm finna blow out ya wig
Bitch! Throw bottles to kid and get 'em thrown at ya crib
It's the return of the worst shit that ever happened
Reborn like what's crackin', we formed with raw plastic
Blastin' off ya doors with an awful passion
Forcin' the walls to crash in
You see them kids, I'll make 'em all bastards
Joey Crack keep it gully, known to clap keep a fully
Automatic mack whodie on my lap doin' thirty
Drivin' through the Heights tryin' a find these cats that did me dirty
Shot me on the Ave, now I gotta blast until them pearlies
We the realest niggaz ever touch the mic
(Blah)
And we love to fight
(Blah)
You heard my niggaz give up the fuckin' knife!
(Ante up)
We gonna
Break
(Break)
Mash
(Mash)
Brawl
(Brawl)
Clash
(Clash)
Fight up in them clubs, got no love for yo' ass
(Get yo' ass up nigga)
Show me where you at
(Get yo' ass up nigga)
Open up his back
We gonna
Break
(Break)
Mash
(Mash)
Brawl
(Brawl)
Clash
(Clash)
Fight up in them clubs, got no love for yo' ass
(Get yo' ass up nigga)
Show me where you at
(Get yo' ass up nigga)
Open up his back
Yo who that husky-ass nigga with the flow so dumb
Comin' up outta Brooklyn lookin' like Mighty Joe Young
(Face down)
Know we real, got this motherfucker
Crackin' and buzzin' with my Latin cousin Joey Grills
(We international)
151 proof
Letcha cold run loose, I give 'em a sunroof
For cotton-ass pretty boy talkin' 'bout drama
With that nasty ass Coogi suit, lookin' like pyjamas
(Somebody gon' get hurt today)
So be it
We the first fam, you see it
(First family)
Put some trouble in ya voice homeboy 'fore ya get whacked in
Calm down, Get back!
(Calm down)
For you niggaz that wanna trap me I make families unhappy
I'm tied into the same shit as Boy George and Papi
(E'rybody know)
Everybody wanna clap me
Tonight I'm with my Spanish homie Joey
So get at me with the ghetto issued .45, semi-automatic
I spit with intentions to rip
Put-put pieces out yo' cabbage bitch
Trained on the Hill, aim at niggaz faces
Push his hat back seven paces, leave him standin' still
Cobra ass nigga you beg me to kill
(Huh, yeah)
When I cock glocks and pop, you beg me to chill
(Chill)
(Y'all remember Bill?)
Y'all remember the motherfuckin' deal
You will get yo' ass zipped up, how this feel nigga?
We gonna
Break
(Break)
Mash
(Mash)
Brawl
(Brawl)
Clash
(Clash)
Fight up in them clubs, got no love for yo' ass
(Get yo' ass up nigga)
Show me where you at
(Get yo' ass up nigga)
Open up his back
We gonna
Break
(Break)
Mash
(Mash)
Brawl
(Brawl)
Clash
(Clash)
Fight up in them clubs, got no love for yo' ass
(Get yo' ass up nigga)
Show me where you at
(Get yo' ass up nigga)
Open up his back
Oh motherfucker uh uh, y'all ain't seen nothin' yet
Got a call from the Bronx Best, bitch, and I was right there
Duck tape, grip ply, havogee, turpentine
Two nickel nine, MacDonald, cup of richie wine
Wish a motherfucker would look and he shall find
Ten million ways to die!
I'm the thickest of the fire
Ain't too many niggaz round with the rumble
With the rawest in the jungle, blicky, bloaw, bloaw!
Bitch I break 'em down with Terror Squad now
(Down)
Ya pretty bad, clumsy mouth, sit down, get up, get out
Hottest thang they got in the south
(Petey Pablo)
If ya don't know now ya know
Holla at 'em Joe!
Fight club! Fight club!
Fight club! Fight club!
Fight club! Fight club!
Holla at 'em Joe!
We gonna
Break
(Break)
Mash
(Mash)
Brawl
(Brawl)
Clash
(Clash)
Fight up in them clubs, got no love for yo' ass
(Get yo' ass up nigga)
Show me where you at
(Get yo' ass up nigga)
Open up his back
We gonna
Break
(Break)
Mash
(Mash)
Brawl
(Brawl)
Clash
(Clash)
Fight up in them clubs, got no love for yo' ass
(Get yo' ass up nigga)
Show me where you at
(Get yo' ass up nigga)
Open up his back
Yeah, huh, yeah, huh?
Get 'em up now
Ladies, get 'em up now
Niggas, get 'em up, get 'em up, get 'em up, get 'em up, get 'em up now
The killas, the dealers, get 'em up now
My Gorillas, get 'em up now
Get 'em up, get 'em up, get 'em up, get 'em up now
(Background): feeling like coming through
Yo somebody wanna Giancana mark for death
What a hard test spark your best
Better aim for the heart and chest stay sharp when you park the Lex
Twenty police better guard your rest laying down for gods to bless
Sixteen ain't hard to catch, think you could dodge the rest?
I was coming to you, hard to guess?
What nigga hot better not nod the rest
In the front yard a mess should of rocked a larger vest
Wifey and ma' depress news impress mob the rest
This sketch like an architect
We march whit techs (background: march whit techs)
Gorilla to death nigga start to rep (background: start to rep)
Break a thug nigga with a hearts of vets (background: hearts of vets)
Shoot 'em in the wrist lost Bagguetts
Got a trade pound god depress one tattoo scar a flesh
If I ain't dead up ion the harbor wet
Read the beam with a flash of light kid blast to the afterlife
Lift off to the traffic light
Come through a nigga money better have it right
Kid never do a bid I'ma pass the kite
Somebody get slashed tonight (huh)
Splash top the casket right
Shaqueen] (repeat 2x)
Got up in the club now play the wall, get 'em up now
Somebody wanna act up start the brawl, get 'em up now
My whole clique ain't afraid at all
Bust my guns (get 'em up) at all of y'all, get 'em up now
You gotta go down now for the team, get 'em up now
Run for the front door duck the beam, get 'em up now
Punk all bloody shake the scene
Say what you(get 'em up) want don't touch the cream
get 'em up now
Yall know G Rap got it lock down
Whole clique put a lot down get found with a hot round
Duck down when I pop the pound
Only one brick gotta chop it down paper get low gotta hop the town
Nigga wanna front got a drop the clown
Why you looking sad bitch stop the frown
Baby look good got a cop it down
All up in the shook up walls knock 'em down
Black Gorilla fam we got the sound
See my nigga Primo cop the brown
Hope ain't no cops around
Click up hit the club with the big bucks
Chips up fifth tuck drive with a wrist up
Hit the bar by the cryst shop
Drink hard till I piss up
Hiccup bounce out with a big truck
Chicks to fuck take 'em home dick 'em up
And I went to get my shit suck
Chick rider and I picks 'em up
Dump 'em often fix 'em up
Wanna blow trees here twist 'em up
Wanna drink champagne get your cup
Let the whole family hit you up
Won't stop till I am rich as fuck, keep it coming y'all
What you going to do when my niggas come for you
Better duck and hide don't you know that ass is through
Leave you f-ing that's the way we lay our game down
Is evident we don't fuck around
Play the wall, get 'em up now
Start the brawl, get 'em up now get 'em up get 'em up now
'Fraid at all
All of y'all get 'em up get 'em up now
See the team, get 'em up now
Duck the beam, get 'em up now
Shake the scene get 'em up get 'em up
Touch the cream, get 'em up now