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Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips
But I did pick up the laundry soap. I picked it up.
- Talk a cat off a fish cart. - All right, Bubs, I gotta get.
Barksdale's coming back on my boy Marlo, huh?
Motherfucker, how many times I gotta tell you not to use no names?
What happened to all them towers?
the wireless company recycles the phone numbers.
that are pre-approved for telephonic intercepts.
I bet you won all your motions.
at least give me a chance to tell the man my story first.
I mean, who knows about this down at headquarters?
On this, you walk point.
for information, to find out what's going on out there in them streets...
- Mike, where you at? - Yeah, over here.
Yo, Squeak, Squeak! I about forgot.
dealing with the juveniles on them corners, I had little success.
Slow train coming.
- Same voice, no question. - I'll let the judge know.
to decrease the numbers, he comes in and in one stroke...
Sweet Beatrice Russell.
But that'll only give us what we just had, 30 hours.
And so we're gonna come at her like that.
I did the long-distance access card heist before cell phones got popular.
- Punk-ass nigga. - Chump ass.
I listen to the shit she talks about...
You had your stats, you had your arrests, you had your seizures.
That's run out of CID downtown.
and where the fuck they are now.
Yeah, you high-and-mighty Barksdales can afford to sit back and play low-key.
Oh, shit.
She was shot, one in the mouth, one in each tit.
Quite the legal mind.
Was it so our names could ring out on some fucking ghetto street corners, man?
And you want me to sign off on court-ordered taps...
Got it right here, yo. Yeah, that's right.
Hey, yo, Butch, I want you to go inside my bank and spread the word.
Is Miss Josephine mending?
Don't look like much.
Nah. You know what happens if we start locking people up in Hamsterdam?
I think it can be done...
Fucking hack.
IID picked up Prez's shooting. It's to be expected.
We thought he was down, but he popped up in September.
No, I'm good.
How the fuck you gonna learn something, acting like a damn fool?
Yeah. Ain't no big mystery why your face got tattooed.
Drug war?
to even get to that special fucking floor.
One-two, that's it. One-two, there you go.
And pretty soon, damn near everybody on every corner is your fucking enemy.
Tough habit.
What do you think of that?
And if there were things that happened up on that post...