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Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips
Of course your partner here has to go over to the courthouse...
See, the one that did it, I saw him come in the building a week later.
Don't "Major" me, you backstabbing, smartass piece of shit.
Calm down.
-Stay in the fucking car. -That shit just ain't right.
-How much you got left? -Girl, please.
He says so...
They're deep and organized. They've got everyone running scared.
Hold up, man.
I mean, Major, these guys are real.
We're down a man since your partner got himself detailed.
Hold up.
Couldn't do nothing else.
-Hold up. -I ain't got all day.
Okay, let's roll him.
That's it, take his ass to jail.
He ain't the one that did the shooting.
Dealing with certain clients
Let me ask you something. What do we know about Avon Barksdale?
This look like money, motherfucker?
No.
So, the first thing you do, you get all emotional...
Let's walk.
I tried. I called Detective....
What are you talking to that motherfucker for?
-What you got on you? -Just the $10 I dropped, man, the real one.
It's down, Bunk. Barksdale's in Part 1 2, right?
This shit happen again, you off the money. You hear me?
What up, man?
Ms. Lyles, when you spoke with the detectives...
Major?
-He ain't no president. -Nigger, is you crazy?
after taking they money.
He's right there.
Wait, why are we gonna use real money?
What's up?
-Motherfucker, we talking about piss. -Piss does too, think about it.
Where's the mic? These motherfuckers sound great.
-You got him, Carv? -I got him.
-Fuck it, I came from Western. -Where don't you want to go, asshole?
So, I drive all the way down to Liberty Road...
This kid whose mama went to the trouble of christening him Omar lsaiah Betts?
-You giving me the start? -It's your turn.
I still lose.
Get down. Get on the ground.
-That's nice. -Hang on, you fucking thief.
Downtown, yeah.
Is this what I need from you, you insubordinate little fuck?
Him and the rest of his crew, Wee-Bey, Savino, Stinkum.
Yo, Wallace.
-He gonna get little Mike. -Then what?
You're excused, Mr. Gant. Call your next witness.
he'd wait till there was cash on the ground, then grab the money and run away?
It's been three months.
I'm saying, every Friday night...
Lemon street Chumps? Nah
If we had 10 shots at him, we'd have more than a fat file.
-But down here, you want to count it. -Shit.
No, man, you gonna fall out...
You show us you can run the Pit, and you'll be back uptown soon enough.
Jimmy, man, I gotta change my clothes at least, come on.
All rise.
-Put your hands behind your head. -Get your hands up.
We need to take him to Franklin Ave...
Damn, Dee.
slamming that shit like that one of these days, boy.