All language subtitles for Rollin.with.the.Nines.2006.1080p.WEBRip.x264-RARBG_English

MAC-11,
1,200 rounds a minute.

Point and spray.

Ain't no subtlety when you're
repping this bad boy trust.

Yeah, the 45 ting.
The Man Stopper.

Only top shooters got
one of these blood.

Can knock a whole
through a brick wall,

but it kick like a horse.

But ammo scarce.

Revolver.

Spinner.

Old Reliable.

Only holds six shots, but it
don't jam like the ..

At the moment of truth, this
strap won't let you down.

The nine.

Come in all shapes
and sizes

don't have the stopping
power of the 45,

but you'll have no
problem finding one.

The gun that
flooded the streets.

Anyone who calls
himself a gangster

won't have one of these.

It's all about
P and my homie, Samurai,

bringing you the biggest and
the bashiest music in the UK.

Trust me, come in big
and bashy

Whoa, and that's bashy.

What I'm saying is I want
to take it to the streets.

Indeed.

I'm talking about three guys
calling themselves Time Served

straight out of south London.

We're live right now, people.

It is now.

You see this tune?

It's not released yet.

You can't get it nowhere.

You can't get it nowhere.

You're going to
hear it here first.

The reason why we've got it
is 'cause we're big like that.

We are big like that.

I want to say be up
to my homie, Devon.

He's the manager of the group,
so go on and

No, see, Devon,
he's my ..

But I've got to say
straight up and down--

I know what you're
going to say, I

know what you're going to say.

--My man is going
to come correct.

Indeed.

The front cover, man.

You know what, Dev?

The cover is a little
bit shady, bro.

Little bit corny, bro.

But trust me, still.

It's all about the music,
it's all about Time Served.

It's all about the
Ghetto War Cry.

This is Time Served,
Ghetto War Cry.

We don't play.

And this is
up on the stage.

So rap with rage.

When they see me on the
rampage, your man's afraid.

When I got my
hands on the gauge.

Time Served
don't stand in our way.

The top shot on
moneymakers ..

Sipping champagne with
cocaine when you

see me my major.

The street, play it
safe in the ghettos.

When I flex.

Show me disrespect,.

That's how we rep.

Time Served, so let
me step on the line.

Like my partner in
crime Yo.

War cry.

Yeah, trust me, this CD's big.

2,000 copies.

Gonna cause damage.

What?

Rage looks about
ten years old, man.

And you, you look
like a gangster.

I ain't got no
problem about this.

Hey, yo, Finny, what
do you think of that?

Easy, easy.

I put a lot of fucking
money into that.

You pulled that
fucking stupid face

when they took the photo, Rage.

I reckon you're stuck
with it for 2,000 copies.

The fuck do you know?

Fuck do you know?

What you mean?

Finny's last record was an
underground legend, buddy.

Fuck that, I wasn't
even born back then.

Shut your mouth,
you little punk.

You'll get all that.

Right now, you're gonna be big.

You're getting a
lot of radio play.

Record labels are trying
to kick down the doors.

Yeah?

So when you reckon I'm gonna
see some dough for this, then?

Money?

Forget about money.

Tonight, they're just
gonna take you out.

Show you the high life.

Show you what it's really about.

You know.

Champs, cars, girls.

So finally, you're gonna
get some pussy tonight.

Ha, ha, ha you're funny.

Fuck you.

It's the big man.

It's me, SD.

Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo.

Hang around my
waist like an orangutan.

You don't want
lead in your face.

You don't want.

--Any man with a black
bandana, ski mask, and hammer.

Watch your mouth.

You see?

This is what I'm talking about.

Cristal, blood.

You don't drink no
champagne 'cause

you know it tastes like piss.

Yo, waitress, these
are my boys, there.

Yeah, I mean Time Served.

You know, that
big group that got

I want you to go
bring some more champagne.

I want Cristal.

I don't even want
to drink the fucker,

I just want to throw
it on the floor.

You get me.

All right.

And darling, that's for you.

Yo, yo, yo, yo.

Hey, how about one of
them for me?

She ain't got.

It's OK.

What's going, bloods?

Yeah, we're all
these black folk here

in a top club
sipping on a Cristal.

You boys, it's going up.

The hell you doing
here, pushy man?

Huh?

I come I
couldn't leave you here

to enjoy this shit without me.

I know, let's get it on.

That shit is
fucking blessed, blood.

Yeah, hear the DJ.

This is the biggest and
bashiest sound around.

How much your boy,
Devon, be paying, huh?

It's easy that, or one
of you guys

You boys
riding there in a stretch,

and I'm kicking
in Hope's jalopy.

Well, you've got to
realize something, yeah?

You can't just sit on your
ass and get in our limo.

Strictly artists.

Artists?

That what you call
yourself there?

Shit.

I want to propose a toast, yeah?

Everybody
let's grab your glass.

Yeah, grab a glass.

You understand?

Yeah.

All right.

Time Served!

Come here.

Time Served, yeah.

Time Served.

You fucking won't.

Stay still, stay the fuck still.

Waiting for that.

Get it on.

Let me see that thong.

Hey, Devon.

What's going on, dude?

How you doing, man?

You all right?

Yo, fellas, remember
Josh?

Yeah.

All right, Josh.

All right, man.

How you doing?

I'm all right.

All right.

Damn, girl.

You know I'm a
photographer, huh?

I work with beautiful
women every day.

But this one?

Ha ha, you're my favorite.

There you go.

We'll take some pictures.

It's good to see
you again, old man.

Street
100 % gangster.

Off the hook?

You don't know.

Ha, little man?

Aha.

You know what?

You know, if you guys maybe
stop posing for one minute,

then maybe, just maybe,
we could've come up

with something a lot better.

Huh?

Is this guy for real, Devon?

Look, Josh, down a little bit.

Oh, no, no.

Oh, wait.

I get it, I get it.

You guys are like,
big stars now.

So I'm supposed to
dance around you

on cracked eggshells and stuff?

Ha ha.

Fuck.

You guys haven't even
sold one record yet.

Fucking fuck this.

You know?

Hey, what's your name again?

Rage.

Rage?

No, no, seriously.

What's your real name?

Rage is-- ha, ha, ha.

Rage.

Rage!

That's my ghetto war cry.

You see what I did there?

Little play on
words, you like that?

Boom.

All right, I'm out of here.

All right, guys, you take care.

Have a good one.

Where'd you get that guy, Rage?

Hey,,,
are you?

You want a kiss?

Fuck off.

You ever thought about
having your picture taken?

You know, I picture you
in front of a log fire,

lying on a wooly
mat or a furry rug.

You know what I'm saying?

Josh.

Chickie.

Just wait one second, OK?

I'm just gonna go
and talk to him.

I'll be right back.

Don't run away.

Hehe.

Damn, look at you.

Looking all b-la-la-la-ling.

Haha.

Bling.

You know what I mean.

You got to watch what
your saying, brother.

Because if you're going to run
your gums to my light, Rage.

Well that's just
stupid as sitting

there trying to draw my sister.

You feel?

I feel.

Now, I suggest you go home.

Sleep it off before
you say something

that's gonna land you
in a whole lot of shit.

OK.

I'm sorry.

Who's this joker?

Huh?

Look it.

Come here.

But you know we got to
go home Come.

Come on, let's go.

No, I don't want to.

Ah.

You don't want to?

Look at you, girl?

Where's your keys?

Come on.

Man, come on.

Yo, Too Fine, Where
you going, man?

Yo, man.

She's wounded.

Look at her.

Women and their drinking
champagne like it's water.

What do you expect?

So what?

You're gonna come over
with a

to smoke some
high-grade?

No, man.

Listen, I'd love to, man.

But I got to take care of this.

You're a beautiful
woman, I'd love

to take some pictures of you.

Oh, thank you.

I picture you in a hot tub
full of like, rose petals,

or something.

And just swimming around
doing like, backstroke

and all this fancy kind
of stuff, you know?

Well, maybe

Well, we should do
something some day.

Sounds good.

Hey!

Rage.

This is Rage.

Rage!

Nice to meet you, Rage.

Haha.

His name's Rage.

Who the hell calls a guy Rage?

I mean, that's ridiculous.

Ah!

Fuck!

Ah!

Damn right it's fucking Rage.

Fuck!

Fuck!

What, you're gonna lean on
that horn all night, mate?

So how have you been, Carl?

You know me, Andy.

Who'd
you take it from?

Some perky

Is it any good?

I haven't fucking tried it,
but if their reputation's

I'll
be fucking blinded.

What's the matter with him, man?

He ain't speaking to me.

No, he's just making sure
we're not getting disturbed.

What is it?

Kilo?

Kilo and a half?

Three grams short, two kilos.

What you want for it?

A good price.

500?

Fuck off.

We're talking kilos, not ounces.

This stuff
ain't selling right now.

The only people smoking
weed are blacks and bikers.

And I can't stand
dealing with them cunts.

1,500 quid'll do it.

12.

Do you want to this
fucking deal or not?

Yeah, I want to do it.

For 1,200 quid.

1,500 pound or I'll burn it.

All right.

Andy, you got to take this?

It better be fucking good.

This is White.

Yeah.

OK.

We're on our way.

Fuck's sake.

Problem?

You could say that
some

just had his head blown off.

We've got to roll, mate.

Yeah.

No need to count it.

You cunt, you had it all along.

Have fun.

Yeah right.

See you later.

I know this is a very difficult
time for you right now.

But this is when the
little details are still

fresh in your mind.

In a couple of days,
they won't be there.

It's those little details
we're gonna be needing.

Thank you, I understand.

Please go ahead.

'Cause my name
flows better than Taliban.

Spit flows
over ..

Spit so cold, make you shook
it like it was ..

--Takeover.

Take you through the mind
state of a ..

What?

You even breathe too loud,
and you're fucking dead.

Now, maybe you can
tell me a thing or two

about a brother of yours.

My brother is dead, man.

That pussy
don't stay on the money.

Where is it?

Speak up, bitch.

I don't know what you're
talking about, man.

I said, he owed me money.

Why do you think he got mugged?

Who are you?

Can't you figure
that shit out by now?

You fucker.

If you don't keep that
fucking mouth of yours closed,

I'm going to have to give you
the same kind of treatment.

And now he owes me
money, but he's dead.

You're his little sister.

It rolls down to you.

You owe me some
dough, little bitch.

Take a look upstairs.

I see.

You better start looking
that shit out quick.

You've got two days
to come through.

Take some free advice, bitch.

Don't go near the vets.

They can't protect you from us.

And if they come
see you, I suggest

you hold that dough 'cause
my blood clock gone bisexual

and a woman.

And if we come looking,
and you ain't here,

then I'll turn your
fucking mama over.

It's five grand.

Come find me when you got it.

33 Street.

I'll be waiting.

Any longer and my crew will
behead your whole fucking

family.

They call me Temper for
a reason, little girl.

I am not a man
with whom to fuck.

Hm?

Hola, Crikkit.

You're looking good.

You lose weight of something?

Please give money for food.

Well that's not
strictly true, is it?

Please give money for crack,
would be closer to the mark.

Get up on your feet.

What can you tell me about
a guy called Too Fine.

Who?

Too Fine.

He was in some kind
of hip-hop group.

The rapper.

Yeah, I've heard of him.

What have you heard?

All types of shit, man.

I can't remember.

Well, do you want
to fucking try?

I can't, man.

I can't think of
shit right now, man.

My mind's all over
the fucking place.

I don't need this shit, man.

I just need something, yeah?

Just give me something.

Come on, man.

You stop fucking money.

Oh, come on, man.

I'm desperate.

Just give me some money.

Don't fucking touch me.

We got time for a detour.

Maybe he's got something.

We can't listen to
this fucking prick.

He's off his fucking head.

He's fine.

Aren't you, Crikkit?

You know what day
of the week it is?

It's Sunday, isn't it?

Six days out.

That's good enough.

Now get in the fucking car.

I don't want to get
in the fucking car.

Get in the fucking car.

I'm not getting in the car.

I'm not going in the car.

You, piss off.

You're holding.

Holding what?

Give me a half-ounce bag.

I ain't holding, man.

Didn't you just hear
what I said to him?

Come on, cough it up.

Don't fucking suck
your teeth at me.

Two four-ounce bags.

That's fine.

Now, fuck off.

Get a fucking
track it out ..

Come on, get out.

Song tell me about Too Fine.

No way.

You don't get nothing until you
tell us what we want to know.

Better be fucking
worth it and all.

Too Fine.

Yeah, I remember.

Used to ride around
here all the time.

What was he into?

He sold a bit of
rock, coke, puff.

He used the money to make the
music because that recording

shit ain't cheap.

Will you stop
doing that, please?

Do you know why he got shot?

No, not exactly.

The word on the street is when
he went in for the rapping,

he left a few
street vets unpaid.

So that could mean anybody.

Is that it?

Can I go now?

Give me the fucking watch, man.

I'm dying here.

That's yours.

You want the rest--

pay attention.

I said, if you
want the rest, you

got to come up with something.

And it better be good, OK?

We got a deal?

Fuck off.

Fuck off.

That's your fucking informant.

What the fuck are you
doing here, bitch?

You know better than to come
in here this time at night.

Did anyone ever teach you
not to mix with bad men?

I've got your money.

That was quick.

You got to come in
the morning, you know.

You sure that's the
only reason you're here?

Yeah, I can see you want
a bit more, don't you?

We both know this ain't
about money tonight, girl.

You want what you already
got, you dirty little--

You just fucked things right up.

You're wanking it
both ways now, bitch.

I'm gonna fuck you.

And then I'm gonna lick
you down right there, yeah.

You think you can
pull this shit on me?

I stick my hood in that
tight little hole of yours,

and you think that
makes you a gangsta?

What do you know about shooting?

You ain't never done no killing.

You ain't gonna
pull that trigger.

I'm gonna take that strap, and
I'm gonna fuck you with it.

Give that little pussy a taste
of point blank buck shot.

You're making all
kinds of mistakes.

You just fucked
your whole family.

I'm gonna bring me midnight
and noon Fuck you,

I'm gonna bring me midnight
and noon Fuck you,

fuck--

What-- what-- what you gonna do?

Why don't you put that strap
down before you hurt yourself?

Shoot a gun.

Hope, what are you doing here?

Can I come in?

Yeah, man, come inside.

You should have seen her, man.

That motherfucker Temper
beat the shit out of her.

She did what she had to.

She done it.

Temper's got crew,
you know, Finny.

Yeah, Chosen One and Chronic.

Well, the streets have got a
way of sorting these things out.

Ain't gonna take them boys
too long before they put it

all together.

I know.

And when they do, they're
gonna come after Hope.

They're gonna blaze her.

Then they're gonna
turn her family over,

and then they're
gonna come after us.

Wait.

These little idiots
our Too Fine, you know.

And now they're
knocking Hope about.

I say we just blaze the whole
fucking lot of them, blood.

Are you fucking serious?

Chosen One and Chronic?

Or their fucking bad boys,
superstars?

So what?

Everyone goes down
from a bullet, Rage.

Gunshot don't respect nobody.

Look, I'm with you
on this, you know.

I don't care what this
little man is saying.

I can't believe you're
gonna weak out on this.

Blood, I ain't
weaking out nothing.

Ain't like it's gonna be
the first time for me.

I ain't no fucking virgin.

Just another notch
on mine, then.

You know where to find 'em?

Think so.

I got the scraps locked down.

Let's make it right.

I don't give a
fuck about your reputation.

I'm the star from the top,
like Christmas decorations.

And me merking you right
now, that's my estimation.

Dedication plus patience
equals innovation.

Get your voice on any station.

Why you waiting?

Why waste time debating,
fucking around not raving?

Late night time in the studio
slaivng, eight nights a week,

too many days in.

That's when you me a beard.

Fuck shaving.

He I'm tired of rhyming,
but I am a pain he backside.

Your plan backfired.

You can look up
anyone that's tried.

They can't merk me.

Never that.

That's right. It's not
that season nor that time.

I ain't boasting,
but I am that type.

So shut your noise
and gimme that mic.

Heard the beat.

I was like, "gimme that mic."

And I wrote some fuck
lyrics that night.

I'm on point, no falling behind.

It's all in the music.

It's all in the mind.

What you call it, garage?

What you call it, grime?

Call it what you wanna cal it.

I'm fine, but rhyme-wise, I
got a short order of mine.

Dukes, Dee, Whiley, ghetto.

These have got news
flows all the time.

Testing.

Mic check, 1, 2.

Someone so called your name.

So what's new?

Fuck him.

Fuck them.

Fuck you.

If they wanna clash with
me, I would love to.

Hello?

Who is this?

Who are you?

Hug, kiss, kiss.

That's how they greet me.

All because I flow
ill like a sickness.

I'm a sick kid, but when I
spit hot shit, I'm on fire,

but I'm a big blitz.

Testing.

Fuck them, fuck you.

If they want to clash
with me, I would love to.

Hello?

Who is this?

Who are you?

Shut up.

What now?

What nasty?

Nah.

Fuck you!

Fred, Andy, over here.

Fuck's going on?

It's pretty serious.

Damn right it is.

It's Friday evening.

I was planning a little
booze and nudies.

We got two dead
bodies, both faces.

Chosen One and Chronic, gunned
down in front of a full house

35 minutes ago.

Waitress caught a
bullet in the crossfire.

There goes my fucking night.

Chosen One and Chronic,
they're Temper's crew.

Where's Temper?

Jones just found his body.

Took two shotgun blasts point
blank in is own front room.

Man's been dead for
at least five hours.

We're going over to work it.

We got officers questioning
witnesses as we speak.

They're all saying
the same thing.

Two guys wearing motorcycle
helmets walked in,

and starting spraying.

Left on a strat.

Plate.

No doubt all these cunts are
full of cocaine and overpriced

booze.

OK, we'll take it from here.

Is the waitress still alive?

ICU.

Collapsed lung cancer,
punctured liver.

Nice.

Seems like some pretty
heavy gang shit.

Maybe there's a war brewing.

Brewing?

I'd say it's well and
truly underway, son.

It's gonna be a
long fucking night.

All right, anyone
touch anything?

Girl's been rushed to hospital.

No one's laid a
finger on these two.

What you thinking, Ed?

Two shooters, right?

Had are themselves
am DMG mag 10.

And look at this.

It's a smaller entry wound.

Different gun.

The only shell casings
see around here are 45s.

They must have had a revolver.

Pretty high caliber
too, by the looks of it.

Cheeky.

I'm thinking this is personal.

Doesn't have the look
of a professional hit.

I reckon there's over 100 bullet
holes in and around these two.

They unloaded whole clips into
them, reloaded and carried

on spraying.

Now, if it was a
professional hit,

there's much likely to be two
taps to the head and a lot less

automatic fire.

This amount of lead was
delivered with feeling.

Let's get this right.

You come in here,
demanding money,

not even five minutes
after your Rage is dead.

Your fucking soul.

Badmen ain't got no soul, blood.

Badman?

You're a badman now?

Maybe out there,
but not in here.

I don't owe you fuck all.

I want my fucking expenses!

Expenses?

When you fucked up that
kid what's his name?

Josh?

Who saved you?

You could have went to the pen.

Oh, I'm sorry.

I thought we were
talking about money here.

Listen, I don't give a fuck
about that little prick,

and I don't give
a fuck about you!

Give me my money!

Money?

You ain't getting no money.

Tell him.

You sign three in a band.

There's now two.

You don't even exist.

You expired already, boy.

Finny, what the fuck is he
talking about, we expired?

Finny, what the fuck?

What the fuck?

It's over.

I don't care anymore.

What are we doing here, Andy?

It's not like she can
answer any of our questions.

Take a look at her.

I never lose sight of
what this is all about.

Hello, love.

My name's Tony.

This is Pat.

We got someone that needs
a little word with you.

So we came to pick you up here,
make sure you don't get lost.

Do I have a choice?

Well, there's a couple.

Granted, we only
suggest the one.

Get in the fucking motor.

So someone's worked you over.

Hope it wasn't one of my boys.

I heard about your brother.

Nasty business, that.

What do you want from me?

Just a little of your time.

Who are you?

Doesn't matter.

You won't have heard of me.

Sit down.

Look in the bag.

That is a kilo of
very good cocaine.

I don't deal in that cut to
fuck shit those trigger happy

yardie assholes keeping
bringing in from Jamaica.

That's the real deal.

Straight from Holland.

What's that got to do with me?

Temper was one of
my best customers.

His firm had three
kilos a month from me.

Now, that's a regular
wage with very little fuss

that I'm no longer getting.

Not to mention the
stuff I'm sitting on.

That hasn't been paid for yet.

But you and your boys have
lost me a lot of business.

You've got to do me right, girl.

You ain't lost the business.

You just changed your partner.

What are you talking about?

Forget Temper.

Deal with me.

You're just a little girl.

Is that what you think?

Go tell that to Temper.

It doesn't take a genius
to put some cunt to bed.

It's not exactly rocket science.

Just give me a chance.

You got the money?

Give me that kilo
there on credit.

I'll pay you back,
plus an extra 30 %.

Credit?

You want credit.

Now I know you're
fucking joking.

Well, what else you gonna do?

Go out on the street and start
dealing that shit yourself?

You won't get very far.

With Temper dead, you ain't
got the links no more.

I do.

The only question is, have
you got the balls to find out.

Is that what I think it is?

You better believe it.

Where'd you get it?

Don't matter.

That's my business.

What, is it like a ki?

That's exactly a ki, blood.

So what you wanna do with it?

You know the market
better than I do, Pushy.

Is it live?

Grade A, Amsterdam's finest.

You know you'll get people
queuing up to buy this shit.

We're knocking out skunk
for years, you know.

And I've been smoking it
for longer than that, blood.

You get what I'm saying?

We got the links, you know.

We could knock this
shit out in no time.

That why I need your help.

Come in with me.

You too, Finn.

Us four together.

This is our chance to
make some serious wong.

Reckon it's the
best we'll ever get.

What's wrong?

This is proper things, Hope.

You get into this, and
there's no turning back.

The music's over.

You've gotta look to the future.

What kind of future are
you talking about, Hope?

We've all hustled before, right?

This is just taking
things a step further.

It'll be good to get
back into a business

that I fucking understand.

No CD sales, no
fucking percentages,

just cold hard cash
that ain't gonna

be declared to no
fucking tax man.

Trust me, Hope.

We're in with you
on this, you know.

Finny?

What you looking at?

My sister just sent me these.

It was my niece's
birthday last week.

Cute.

What did you get her?

Book tokens.

Original.

How much for?

10 pounds.

Oh, big spender.

"Generous," I bet
that's what she calls you.

Fuck you.

You could have got her cash.

It comes in a variety
of different colors

and you can spend it
pretty much everywhere.

You know, buying book tokens--

Heads up.

Here he comes.

That's fucking close enough.

Crikkit, looking sharp.

You been on a
sunbed or something?

Has he got a tan, or
am I imagining it?

The boy looks fucking great.

Can you guess why we're here?

You wanna know something about
the Plush night club shooting.

That'd be a good start.

I ain't nothing to tell.

No one's claiming it.

No crews, no firms, no gangs.

Yeah, yeah, shut up.

Have you got
anything else for us?

Have you got something for me?

You said you wanted
something good of me.

I've got all that and
more for you, man.

What can you tell us
about Temper and his crew?

I'm thinking maybe we got some
kind of gang war on our hands.

Ain't no gang war going on.

You two boys are connected.

Too Fine and Temper's
boys were always beefing.

You're sure?

Yeah, straight up.

Too Fine owed him money.

Must have macked him
off or something,

because Temper goes apeshit.

He was really
into protecting his shit.

Yeah, well, he doesn't anymore.

He's lying on a slab in the
local morgue with half his face

missing.

For real?

You know where the
brothers getting their guns

from these days?

What can you tell us?

We're looking for a mag
10 and a 357 magnum.

Magnum?

You need a man from
for that shit, man.

Watch your mouth, you
piss-taking little cunt.

Yo, Haines, man,
Haines, Why don't you

call your boy off, Ned?

How about you stop wasting
our fucking time and tell us

what wee wanna hear.

I'll tell you what
I don't know, yeah.

There's this one guy.

He's selling all kinds
of straps right now.

He just got a big
parcel in from Europe,

and the word is, he's got plenty
of road sweepers and spinners

getting all of that shit, man.

Who is he?

Some fucking yardie
called Karnage.

This has got to be all over
his hands, dealing rocks

and shit, man, you name it.

No where he lives?

No, but I know he
likes to get his pussy.

Let me do all the talking.

I actually know how to
communicate with women.

Whatever you say, stud.

Hand me those photos.

What, you want my
niece's birthday?

Yes, come on.

Cough 'em up.

Hi there.

Hello, darling.

What can I do for you?

I was hoping you'd be able
to do us a little favor.

Hand jobs are 10,
a full sex is 45,

and a blow job will cost you 70.

It'll cost you double
for a

We've got black girls,
Asians, fatties, big tits.

Smashing?

I'll do you half price.

Looking for a customer of yours.

Black guy.

You're gonna have to do
better than that, love.

We got quite a few of
them in here, you know.

His name's Karnage.

I'm sure you know him.

He's a regular.

Never heard of him.

You sure about that?

Yeah.

Hey, honey.

I make 350 a night.

You think I'm gonna risk
all that for a lousy 100?

This here, you see this girl?

She was murdered.

This little girl here, raped.

This little sweetheart,
raped and murdered.

Now, the guy we're looking for
is responsible for all that.

You really wanna
protect a pedophile?

A fucking child murderer?

Give me his fucking
address, she mouthy cunt.

That's it.

That's where he lives.

Thank you for your help.

Hey, you better catch
that sick bastard.

We will.

Gowdy, Newmyer and Anderson,
me in 15 minutes.

Give me back those photos.

"Raped and murdered?"

That's my fucking niece, mate.

Oh, grow you, fucking mug

Fuck you.

Right, listen up.

Some yardie called
Karnage is knocking out

discount Euro guns.

Contact
has confirmed

that he's selling exactly
the kind of shit that

got used in Plush nightclub.

We're gonna pay
him a little visit

and see what he can tell us.

Do we have a warrant?

No, we're gonna use my
contact, some dumb crackhead

called Crikkit.

So pay attention.

Crikkit walks up
to the front door,

asking if he can buy crack.

We hang back.

When the deal is done,
we make our move.

Karnage gets busted
for supplying

class A. We ask
him a few questions

and we get to search the house.

Got it.

Some of all these yardies
like to season their bullets

with garlic, cat shit,
pig's blood, you name it.

If the bullet doesn't kill
you, the infection will.

Now, this is a no-go area.

Locals aren't too fond of
us in this part of town,

and I'm guessing our man
won't be too friendly either.

Who that?

It's Crikkit, yeah.

Come on, man.

Open up.

I need some food, isn't it?

Are you for real,
boy?

It's 11:30 in the morning.

Fuck off!

Oh, come on, man.

Don't go fucking about.

Open the door, man.

I need a little bit.

I don't give a fuck!

My yard.

Move from me door.

Me don't want nothing from you!

All right, what's a
good time to come back?

Let me tell you--

Get away from the fucking door!

Police, don't move!

Jesus Christ.

Do not fucking move!

Get your fucking hands
where I can see 'em!

Shut your noise,
you stupid cunt.

Is everyone OK?

Anderson?

Yeah.

Good.

Newmyer.

Fine.

Ed?

Yeah, I'm good.

Anderson, on your feet.

I want you outside.

Seal off the area.

Make contact with the
local police unit.

You two, check the house.

I wanna know what in
it was worth dying for.

What you hiding in here, boy?

Fuck off!

Sold any guns in the
last couple of days?

I asked you a fucking
question, you mongrel!

Now, fucking answer me!

We don't know nothing
about no pussy

We don't know nothing
about no pussy

Blood, what you want?

We're looking for a
MAC-10 and a 357 magnum.

Had me.

Sold me one of each.

Who to?

Who to?

Ow!

Pushy!

Pushy?

Me and my man, we
spoke the other night.

Who's my man?

Who the fuck are
you talking about?

Too Fine.

We've hit the fucking
jackpot, Andy.

There's gotta be four
kis of coke in here.

There's a shitload of guns
in one of the bedrooms.

A real fucking arsenal.

Four kilos?

We'll do him for the
guns and one kilo.

Go and find.

Tell him we got
three kis for sale.

He can have 'em for 20
grand a ki, but only

if he takes the
fucking lot at once.

Fucking on it.

And walk this fucking loser
through what he's got to say.

You don't wanna know
what's upstairs.

Now, if you wanna survive
your first night in jail,

I suggest you
listen to everything

I'm about to say very
fucking carefully.

For the record, I'm supposed
to say "congratulations."

That's the biggest bust
we've had this year.

36 firearms, a kilo of cocaine,
and two bodies in a bath tub.

So, once again, for the
record, congratulations.

You can go now, Haines.

Sir.

You wanna know what I've
got to say off the record?

Ned's story.

So you were tailing
some small time

crackhead with no record of
serious violence or gun crime.

Of course you were.

And he just happened
to wanna buy crack

from this man's front door?

Tell me something, White.

And you be very careful
about how you answer this.

Do I look like a cunt?

Well, do I?

Because that's what
you're taking me for.

The story is correct, Captain.

That is not the
question I asked you.

The question I asked you
was "do I look like a cunt?"

I'm not sure how to
answer that question, sir.

Well, let me help you.

I don't think you were
taking that crackhead at all.

I reckon you got him
to go around that house

so you could explore a
loophole and get inside,

because you didn't
have sufficient grounds

for a warrant.

Is that a fact?

No, that's conjecture.

But let me give you
a fact, detective.

If you'd done a
background check,

you would have seen that
young Mr. Karnage already

had two strikes on possession
and supply of firearms.

Now, do you think a man like
that is gonna come quietly?

No,

Sir.

No, sir.

If you'd bothered to
do your job properly,

I wouldn't have seven yardies
and some poor crackhead

in the morgue, not to mention
the two cunts in the bath tub.

That's fuck all to do with me.

I mean, what do have
you given me, detective?

I think I've given
you a fucking result.

You had no reason
for being there.

How do I get it through to you?

You knock down the
door at number 10

and find the prime
minister sniffing coke

off a child's nuts, you
can't do him anything

without a valid warrant.

Our story is correct, captain.

So you keep saying.

But you gotta get
more creative, White.

At least let me face the
press with a pack of lies

that sounds vaguely
credible, lies

that let me sleep at night.

Anyway, that was off the record.

So, once again, for the
record, congratulations

on a job well done.

Now, fuck off out of my office.

Just another day
brushing off my shoulders.

'Cause I got bills to pay.

I gotta keep it rolling.

Responsibilities.

This life has got me stressing.

Nowhere to run.

Nowhere to hide.

I've got to stay inside.

So what can I do for you?

I thought we could settle up.

Here's what I owe you.

It's all there.

Plus the extra 30 %,
like I promised.

You sold a kilo already?

I can be very persuasive.

Yeah, with a body like
that, I'm not surprised.

Do you wanna make
some more money?

Now, there's a stupid question.

I don't ask stupid questions.

I wanna buy more weight off you.

I'll take everything you got.

I'm a ghetto kid,
so why the ghetto shit?

I dunno what happened.

It's just what the ghetto did.

I wear my trousers low
almost near my knees.

And everywhere you go--

Forget the colt.
That's a pimp's gun.

Where you gonna get
the ammo for that?

Stick with the nine.

We'll take these two.

I'm a ghetto kid.

Well, you working
for me now, yeah?

I'm not gonna work here now.

We're working together.

You have to look
after man ..

I hear that.

Let's deal with the man, then,
proper, rasta, and everything

cool.

What do you take me for?

I just let the man
then know, yeah.

What we've got is
fucking

You can start with this.

We're gonna need some muscle.

Organize a
meeting with some tally boys

from.

They got money, but
they can't be trusted.

Yeah, I'm on it.

I'm on it.

Hey, Beefy.

Hey, blood.

It's Rage.

How you doing?

Yeah?

How would you like to be
doing a whole lot better?

Oh, man, forget dull work.

It's time for you to
diversify and shit.

What you need is a
change of scenery.

Yeah.

And a pay Increased
What do you take me for?

"Can I afford it?"

You better fucking
believe it, blood.

Oh yeah, and bring
that big hench nigger

with the attitude along too.

You know, what's his name?

Kramer, man.

Kramer.

Hey, count all that shit, boy.

You know how these Asians
be going

I'm a ghetto kid.

I'm just a ghetto kid.

I'm from the
ghetto, half an hour

from the suburbs where
the food's white,

just like flour
in the cupboards.

Kids with more heat than
a high-powered oven.

Rowdy youngins that are
so proud to be stubborn.

They asking in the hood
when my album is coming.

I'm like, I ain't
changed one bit.

Yo, Pushy, there's that
little punk, Stitchy.

Refresh my memory, blood.

Bruv, he's had near
three ounces off us,

and he ain't paid me for shit.

The prick keeps
my phone calls.

Can you fucking
believe that shit?

Yeah?

Watch this.

I can't believe you
just did that, bruv.

Shit, better fucking
believe that, blood.

Don't play me for no punk.

He's dead.

Is he dead, bruv?

Fuck me.

Fuck that prick.

Let's go get something to eat.

Yeah, I wanna eat.

Let's go and get some
fucking pizza, man.

Fucking pizza, yeah.

What you got for me?

I did a background check
on the name "Pushy."

His real name is James Baker.

He was a football
hooligan back in the day.

He ran with
Turn the page.

Nice.

So he gave up
being a

and became a drug dealer.

Possession with intent
reduced to misdemeanor.

Another GBH, ABH, more
fucking drugs charges.

Known associates include
Maurice Ravel, AKA, Too Fine.

Shit, that's fucking
dynamite, Ed.

Look at this.

What the fuck is
this, three wankers

posing with water pistols?

It's a demo CD for a rap
group called "Time Served."

Today's cunts are all the
fucking same, ain't they?

"I got a gang. Bitches.

You keep your hands off
my motherfucking money."

All these fucking clowns need
is a good dose of Frank Sinatra.

Yeah, right.

You recognize him?

Oh yeah.

Who are the other two?

It just gets better.

Jason Crocker, AKA, Finny.

He had an underground club here
with some jungle outfit called

"25 to Life" back in '96.

They got killed in a drive-by.

Six months later, he's been
picked up for armed robbery.

He served five out of 15.

He's kept his nose clean
since he's been out.

That one's John
Price, AKA, Rage.

A nasty little bastard.

He did time with Too Fine
in the young offenders,

and he's been busted
for all kinds of shit.

Drugs, car theft,
threatening behavior,

carrying a concealed weapon.

Nice

They've all got sordid
connections with Too Fine.

Those are three very
dodgy-looking bastards

right there, Andy.

And like you said, Plush
Nightclub is a three man job.

Looks like De La Soul was right.

Three is the magic
fucking number.

You wanna bring 'em in, get
Karnage up on the stand?

Nah, I'm not bringing these
assholes in on gun charges.

That'd be doing 'em a favor.

They're going down for
murder, plain and simple.

What do you wanna do?

I'm gonna have Anderson
and Newmyer shadowing

these boys night and day.

We just wait for 'em to slip
up, which, by their very nature,

is fucking inevitable.

Here, have a look at the menu.

The captain's bringing
down a lot of heat.

I say we
for a few weeks.

Let's just let things
calm down a bit, hey?

Pushy's got everything
locked down.

We're gonna drive down to
Bristol for the meet tomorrow.

Learn

Would you do me a favor, then?

What's that?

It's 9:00 in the evening.

Leave early.

He can talk with us tomorrow.

OK.

Then we're gonna down to
a bit later.

Some new grimy club Rage
has been hollering about.

You wanna join him?

No.

No, I really don't.

Stay with me.

We can get a few rounds in.

OK, Hope.

Whatever you want.

I'll tell you what I want.

I want us to imagine
a few things.

For the rest of
the night, I wanna

pretend that you and I are
just two regular people out

on a date, like any
other young couple.

On a date?

You don't wanna go
on a date with me?

Whichever you prefer.

I know you care about me, Finn.

Of course I do.

We gotta watch
each other's backs.

That's not what I meant.

I've seen the way
you look at me.

What do you want
me to say, Hope?

You're a good friend.

Just a good friend?

I don't believe you.

You were never a
good liar, Finn.

Not to me.

What do you want me to say?

Just tell me the truth.

If we were out on
a date tonight,

what would you say to me?

I'd say you look good.

You're gonna have to do
a lot better than that.

I'd say you beautiful.

And then?

I ain't gonna help
you no further.

If you can't say
what I know, then I

guess I must be wrong about you.

Oh, forget it.

Game over.

I'm out of here.

Hope, sit down, please.

You really want me to say it?

You're right.

There's times when I see you
as more than just a friend.

Fuck.

That was harder than I thought.

So what about
those drinks, then?

Forget them.

Let's get out of here.

How long have you known I
felt this way about you?

As long as you have.

Say you love me again.

You know I do very much, Hope.

Say it again.

I love you.

Say you'll protect me.

I'll protect you, Hope.

Say it again.

I'll protect and I love you.

Say it again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

Some of them
boys fill up with jealousy,

because none of them boys,
bow down boys,

'cause we're coming through.

Here you are, blood.

Hope said that this crew
wanna take a whole ki, now,

just for starters.

And if they like what
they got, they're

gonna come back for only more.

Hey, how long does it
take to get to Bristol?

Only about an hour and a half.

Maybe two, blood.

But we'll reach it.

You just sit tight, Rage, yeah?

Me and Finn is gonna go
in and do the deal, yeah?

I ain't taking no
chances, you know.

After five minutes,
if we ain't out,

I want you to just
blow up my mobile.

Anyhow we don't answer, just
come in spraying up the place.

You got that, Rage?

Yeah, I got that, blood.

Yeah.

Something's not
right about this.

They're doing, what, 65?

That's not against the rules.

That's the thing.

Even that old dear in the
middle lane is pushing 80.

It's too conspicuous.

When three spoons
are obeying the speed

limit in a tinted VR6,
you can bet they're

doing it for a fucking reason.

Fuck.

I think we're being
followed, blood.

What the fuck are
you talking about?

Look, man, inside
lane, three cars back.

Been on us since Hammersmith.

Man, you gotta stop smoking.

You're prang.

Shut the fuck up.

Who's on prang?

Got enough shit in this car
to put us for for 15 to 20,

you know.

And that's if the judge
is in a good mood.

And And if I ain't sniff Mrs.
Judge's pussy the night before,

we're going down for 30 to life.

Just pull out into the middle
lane and speed up to about 80.

If he's following
us, then we'll know.

Shit, I think they clocked us.

You wanna stay on 'em?

Yeah, there's something
wrong about that car.

You mark my fucking words.

Oh fuck.

You see?

I told you.

Congratulations, you're right.

What do you want,
a fucking reward?

Who do you reckon it is,
the fucking boy, then?

How the fuck do I know?

Just get off at the next exit.

Boy, I don't know,
you know, Finny man.

Just fucking do it.

Last chance to back off.

Fuck that.

We're staying on 'em.

Get off here.

Fuck.

They're still on us, you know.

What the fuck are we gonna do?

I'm too fucking pretty
to go to prison, I swear.

You know what they think of
people like me in prison.

I'm fucked.

I swear, I'm fucked!

Take the next exit on
this roundabout, man.

If he's still on us,
then we'll know for sure.

Yo, fuck!

They gotta be feds, blood.

No other cunt is
this persistent.

What the fuck are we gonna do?

All right, all right,
all right, man.

Just relax, relax.

Cool down.

Fucking take me.

Go, go, go, go, go, go!

Drive, man!

I told you.

They sure as fuck don't
wanna see us today.

They're gaining on us, blood.

Keep going!

Fuck this shit, blood.

This is Detective Newmyer,
Metropolitan vehicle 178,

in pursuit of suspect
along the B6 off exit 3.

Suspect traveling
at 60 miles per hour

in a black Golf Volkswagen
VR6 Registration number-- kilo

673 state, whiskey,
November, kilo.

Requesting backup.

Blood, you ain't losing him!

You're driving us

Just fucking chill, blood!

Step on it, blood.

This wag can do 150.

Yo, blood, I know how
to fucking row, yeah?

Show it to these
punks, now, go, go!

Suspect headed westbound down
the A404 towards junction 6.

Maintaining a speed of
approximately 120 miles

per hour.

Over.

Suspect turned
left onto the B46.

I need that air
support yesterday.

Oh fuck!

There's a bird on us, blood!

India 99.

We have a visual on
suspect's vehicle.

Over.

India 99, come in, please.

Maintaining position
over suspect's vehicle.

Over.

Just shut the fuck up!

Finny, what are we
gonna do, Blood?

What are we gonna do?

OK, turn off the road, man.

Turn off the road.

We'll lose 'em here.

Turn, turn!

Turn, turn!

Oh, fuck, missed 'em!

India 99, we're
gonna double back.

Stay on 'em.

Over.

Understood.

Over.

India 99, where are you?

Over?

Heading east.

Suspect vehicle.

Over.

Go, go, go, go!

What the hell are you doing?

Drive the car straight, man!

Fucking hell, Pushy.

You're trying to kill us.

Shut up, blood.

I got it under control!

Fuck!

Crash, crash.

Suspect vehicle has crashed.

Over.

Understood.

Over.

Cunts have
crashed the motor.

Maintaining position.

Suspects exiting vehicle.

Over.

Oh man.

Pushy, they're fucking
circling us, man!

Get 'em!

Quit it.

Finny, don't fucking follow me!

Police, do not fucking move!

Suspect heading due south.

Over.

Are you all right?

Get away from the fucking car!

Move, move, move!

Today's your lucky day, bruv!

Fuck me, man!

Pull the fuck over!

Get off the car, pig, pig!

Get off the car!

Pull over, pull the fuck over!

Get the fuck off the car!

Get off the fucking car!

Stop the fucking car!

Get out of the fucking car.

Get the fuck out of
the car right now!

Now, stay still, or I'll give
you a fucking good shoeing.

Fuck you, pig!

What did I fucking tell you?

You're lovely, fucking lovely.

You're a special guy.

It takes a special kind of
fucking asshole to crash

two car in as many minutes.

Fancy packaging.

Dutch, is it?

I wanna make a phone call.

And what are you gonna say?

"I'm black.

The cops framed me."

"They switched my bag of caster
sugar for a kilo of coke."

Of course, we did.

Because you was on your way to
it to the fucking

Mars Bar factory.

Yeah, it makes perfect sense.

I mean, why would a large
industrial chocolate factory

want to buy more than one
kilo of sugar at a time

from a shady-looking
cunt like you.

Hope you'll forgive
the misunderstanding.

You're forgiven when I
get to make my phone call.

Hold your tongue,
or I'll rip it out,

you spineless lump
of fucking shit!

Say one more word, cunt!

I fucking dare you!

Do you wanna hear a story?

Actually, you
ain't got a choice.

You're hearing it anyway.

A little while ago, there
was a brutal gangland slaying

down in Plush Nightclub.

Must have read about
it in the paper.

Of course you didn't need
to spend 40 pence on a daily

to find this out.

'Cause you was there.

Yes, you were.

I don't give a fuck that
two crack-cocaine dealers

got gunned down in a nightclub.

I really don't.

Cunts like you might get me
out of bed in the morning,

but you don't inspire me
to do any fucking overtime.

I'll tell you what does.

A young woman got caught in
the crossfire that night.

She were gunned as if she
was part of the furniture.

She died in her hospital
bed two hours ago.

Her kid's in care now.

Only God knows who she'll
end up calling "mommy."

Fine.

She's a nobody, right?

Just a casualty of street war.

Tell him how much trouble
he's in, detective,

and watch his gormless
fucking expression change.

One kilo of fairly fucking
average cocaine, 15 to 20.

Possession of an illegal
weapon, another 10.

Assault on a police
officer, resisting arrest,

that's several more.

Now, driving like
a fucking asshole

and breaking just about every
traffic code we have a law for,

that's another six.

I'm sure we could pin a whole
load of other unsolved shit

on you too.

Bottom line is, you're fucked.

Of course, Detective
Haines here, he's

just going by the book.

Maybe I'll let you
serve a lot less time.

Reason being, is
I'll go and sell

a little bit of this coke on
the streets, so the family

with the proceeds.

And then whatever's
left over after that

will be spent hiring
a son of a bitch

to whack you in your prison cell
not two days after the court

case is over.

Look into my fucking eyes, son.

Tell me if there's any part of
what I'm saying that you're not

taking seriously.

I wanna talk to my lawyer.

A lawyer ain't gonna help you.

You ain't OJ fucking Simpson.

The only way you're getting
out of this is through me.

What do you want?

We want a witness
for Plush Nightclub.

We want a lot more than that.

You're gonna give us the names
of every dealer you know,

every deal that's gone
down, every deal that's

about to go down.

I want ins and outs from the
firms you're dealing with.

I want a statement
for the murders

of Chronic and Chosen One.

I want it all.

You give me everything-- and
I mean, every fucking thing,

and I'll see what I can do about
cutting you some sort of deal.

No fucking way, man.

Look at me, you silly cunt.

You have a chance
to do two things--

reduce sentence and
clear your conscience.

Because your fucking
firm is finished.

Finny.

So what happened, blood?

I got the nonsmoker.

That's what happened.

Them boy done chased me
for fucking miles, man.

You boys are lucky.

'Cause right now, my
lungs feel like they've

been through a cheese grater.

Maybe we're just
faster than you, Finn.

You win a race, Rage?

Shut the fuck up.

So what, blood?

How the fuck you get away?

I latched a car from some
fallen fucking ..

So where's the food, blood?

Gone.

Fuck you mean the food's gone?

I lost it in the chase.

I must have dropped.

You-- you dropped it?

Fucking idiot!

You know how much
that's gonna cost?

Fuck you, Pushy.

I almost got shot.

You wanna blame someone?

You was the one that
mashed up the ride.

Huh?

Yeah?

Remember you, running like some
scat with a pussy out the door?

Yeah, and I got
clean away, blood.

You drop a ki, you
know, you're supposed

to go back for that shit.

I had the fucking
feds up my ass.

If I'd stopped for a breath,
they would have been on me.

How about you boys give
him a fucking break, eh?

Fuck you, bitch.

What, you're back him now
'cause you're grinding him?

Nah, he fucked up
good and proper!

You all fucked up.

I gave you a simple task.

Go down to Bristol, deliver
a ki, get paid, come back.

If it was that fucking
simple, Hope, why the fuck you

didn't go?

Yeah, you, you, fuck you.

I'm out of here.

You're batting.

Yeah?

Yeah, man, it's me.

Open up.

Yeah, I wanna buy some
tings off you, boy.

Who this?

It's Camelot, you silly cunt.

Open up.

You've won the fucking lottery.

It's the feds, get out of here!

Get the fuck out!

You gonna open this
fucking door or not?

If you don't open
this fucking door,

I'm gonna smash the fucking
thing in!

Police, police!

You're under arrest!

Get on the ground,
get on the ground!

Don't move!

Do not fucking move!

Get your hands on the floor!

Face down!

Hands behind your
back, behind your back!

Stop right there!

Stop, stop!

Take that fucking off.

Let me see your fucking face!

Give me what I fucking want.

Do you wanna fucking die?

Do you wanna fucking die?

Don't tell me you're
fucking

Hold tight, boys.

Hey, get him off.

It's 'cause he's fucking black!

It's 'cause he's
popping fucking rocks!

Back up!

Get the fuck out of my face!

You're fucking nicked.

Back the fuck up.

Back the fuck up!

I'll pop your fucking
head open, son!

Play your fucking game, lads.

Play your fucking game.

Police!

On the ground!

Give me your other hand.

Give me your other hand!

Don't move or I will fire!

Clear!

Our city's in a fucking
rich pussy hole.

David Brumby.

Yeah?

You're under arrest.

Back off, boys.

You're coming in too.

Yeah?

Fucking says who?

Says me, you fucking mongo.

Now, back the fuck off.

Yeah, well, fuck
you, back me off.

You're a long fucking
way from Essex, boys.

We do things a bit
different in this fair city.

Yeah?

I gave you a chance, and
you just fucked me it up.

Now, get back against
the fucking wall.

Get up against the wall.

You're both under arrest.

These pit bulls
with you, Brumby?

Don't look at me, officer.

I can't control them
any more than you can.

Get on your feet,
you stupid cunt.

You just bought yourself another
year for resisting arrest.

Really?

I'll be out by this evening.

Well, if that's the case,
at least I fucked up

your lunch now, haven't I?

Turn around.

Hands behind your backs.

He said, turn the fuck around!

Police, don't fucking move!

Get your fucking hands
where I can see 'em!

What the fuck you looking for?

You ain't gonna
find nothing here!

Sit down, you silly black cunt.

Hey, Rage, just chill, blood.

What?

So what, you got a
fucking warrant, pig?

You better believe it, cunt.

What did you just
fucking call me?

I said, "you got a
fucking warrant, pig?"

Yeah, go on.

Mark me.

Mark my face and my
lawyer can fuck you up.

Ugh!

That fucking mark
you, now, will it?

So let me guess, you
didn't find nothing, yeah?

See, you ain't got
shit on me, blood.

Now, just let me
have my phone call.

You let me bring my
lawyer down here.

The boy is a fucking monster.

When he's done with you, you'll
be kissing my ass in court.

You'll be begging
me for respect.

You know, you're right.

We didn't find anything.

We didn't need to.

You're already fucked.

Well and truly fucked.

What are you talking about?

You, my friend, are going
down for triple murder.

This is bullshit, man.

Plush Nightclub.

You did it.

Says who?

Says me.

I got alibi.

Yeah, and I got a
witness, you smug fuck.

You're just bluffing, man.

This is shit.

Look at me.

Tell me if I would get you
down here just to play poker.

Tell him about the witness.

That's right, fucker.

He saw you do the whole thing.

He's gonna stand up in
court and point you out.

He's looking forward to it.

Just bring my lawyer
down here, yeah?

Yeah?

You can call him now.

For all the good
he's gonna do you,

you might as well call in
the fucking Queen inside.

Maybe she can hook you up with
some kind of royal pardon.

Come on, Ed.

Let's get the fuck out of here.

Yeah, we've got everything
we need off this prick.

Just let me have phone call
and bring down my lawyer!

Who is this?

It's me, Push.

Pushy, what the
fuck is going on?

Look, don't talk.

Just listen, yeah?

Feds took me and Rage off-road.

Said they're charging us with
the Plush Nightclub shooting.

Yeah, said they got
themselves a witness.

Block Back right up there if
you think I've got anything

to do with this, Pushy.

Look, I know you don't.

But trust me, I know
somebody that does.

Who?

Where's Finny?

Well, he's just left here.

He's gone-- no way.

No fucking way.

We was wearing
motorbike helmets, Hope.

No one else could have seen us.

Yeah, he's the only
one that can put us

at the scene of the crime.

He's the only one that
didn't get taken off road.

Finny ain't no fucking grass.

He ain't gonna roll over on you
and your boy, for fuck's sake.

Well, they must have got to him.

What does the little kid think?

How the fuck-- how the
fuck should I know?

They got us separated.

I'm not convinced.

Look, me and Rage
are sitting here,

staring down the barrel of
three life sentences apiece.

Why the fuck should
we take the chance?

I reckon he's
bullshit.

No way he got away
from the feds.

The boy's a fucking
pussy and a grass.

If he's already given us
up, how long you think

it is before he drops you
in for blazing Temper?

You've got it wrong.

He'd never do that to me.

Yeah?

Maybe not him.

But me, I ain't afraid
to talk, you know.

If that's my only option.

Don't make me have to do this.

You know how it works.

If they ain't got
no witness, they

ain't got no case against us.

Hope.

Hope, you best bee
listening to me now.

Trust me for your
own fucking good.

Well, go and get your
stuff together, Hope.

We gotta get you out of here.

What are you talking about?

We gotta get your stuff packed.

Where are we going?

Finn?

There's no time to explain.

We're got to get out of here.

Everyone's been arrested.

Do you wanna be next?

What do you wanna run away for?

It's over, Hope.

Rage and Pushy are
on the inside now.

We-- we gotta get
out of the city.

You know what I'm thinking?

Reckon the old bulls got
themselves an informer.

What are you talking about?

What have you done, Finny?

It's not what you think.

I had no choice.

What really happened
yesterday, Finny.

Tell me the truth.

I sprinted, Hope.

I ran as fast as I could, but--

But?

It was this young cop.

He wouldn't give up.

It wasn't the car crash
that broke my nose.

It was him.

What happened?

What do you mean, what happened?

I got driven off the road
and knocked down by the boys.

And they knew everything, Hope.

Everything.

All they needed was a
little cast-iron proof,

a bit of evidence.

Or a witness.

Or a witness.

I wasn't gonna turn in court.

That's why I wanted to
leave town with you.

Too late for that.

The damage was already done
when you opened your big fucking

mouth.

I told the boydem what
they wanted to hear, Hope.

I had to get out of there.

You mean nothing to me now.

Grasses ain't worth loving.

I can't even look at you.

For what it's worth, I never
told 'em a thing about you.

What you got for me?

Yeah, some jogger on
an early morning run

called us when he
saw blood leaking out

the back of this car.

Found something in the boot.

Thought it might interest you.

Have a look.

Jesus Christ, you got
me up here to see that?

Who the fuck is it?

Well, I'm not sure.

Saw him down at the station
with you and Detective Haines

last night.

That's why I called you first.

Have a look.

You gotta be taking
the fucking piss.

You gotta be taking
the fucking piss!

Don't fucking touch me!

Bottom line-- can you get
them on anything else?

We've run the number plate.

Car was stolen in Chelsea
a couple of weeks ago.

Doesn't look like we're gonna
get any good prints off it.

We can do a few of
the little fish.

Possession with intent.

Maybe get something to stick.

But as for the shootings,
don't have anything.

If you don't have a witness,
you don't have a case.

Looks like you got no choice.

You're gonna have
to let them go.

To

On your feet.

You're getting out of here.

What they got going,
it ain't nothing.

You know what it mean?

Aw, man!

Listen.

Officers, right,
thanks for everything.

Yeah, and you're sure you don't
want my statement or nothing?

Oh, I'm sorry about that--
that waitress, you know?

That-- that shit just
breaks my heart, man.

Come on up for a drink, man.

I'll tell you everything.

I told you you wouldn't be
able to hold me, didn't I?

So what happened?

Your grass lost
his balls, did he?

I don't suppose you'd like to
tell me who it was, would you?

Yeah, thought not.

Anyway, I'll see you later.

Go clear up the rest
of the paperwork.

I've gotta catch
up on something.

What?

Yeah, job well done,
girl, job well done.

You in the clear?

Yeah, we're on the
outside now, sister.

Me and Rage are coming
over to celebrate.

You know what I mean?

What did you just
fucking say to me?

Look, we're back
in business, girl.

Not with me, you ain't.

And if you think I'm
celebrating your release,

then you're sorely mistaken.

I don't condone what
I did to get you out.

You got a point to make, Hope?

Don't come around my yard.

Not now, not ever.

And let me impart a little
friendly advice to you.

Get the fuck out
of my end, Pushy.

That goes for Rage too.

Don't make me come looking
for you, pretty boy.

Hope just needs time to
just cool off, blood.

You know how skits be getting
all emotional and shit.

I don't know, man.

I say we leave her alone.

Fuck that bitch, man.

There's gonna be some changes
around here, you know.

I tell her to jump, she
better ask me how high.

Start a beef with me, there's
only gonna be one winner.

Come on, pass me
the spliff, man.

You should have seen the look
on the boydem's face, you know,

when they told me the
witness had disappeared.

Blood, I'd have given a Polaroid
for that moment, you know.

It's Finny you're
talking about, blood.

Yo, don't get stuck
on names and all.

A name just complicates shit!

Forget him.

He was gonna have
us fucking buried.

So what do we do now?

I tell you what we're gonna do.

We're gonna go over
to Lamberth and get

skit, some busts, some crystal.

Yeah.

Gone ahead and cut
that grass for you.

You sure you mowed
the whole lawn?

Don't you worry about a thing.

That's good to know.

I won't forget it.

You can consider the blind
eye well and truly turned.

Rise to the occasion.

Look at yourself and
say you're strong.

No one can stop you.

Oh yeah.

Rise to the occasion.

Go ahead.

You know you're strong.

No one can stop you.

It's for you to make
the best in life

now that you got the chance.

Get up and step
towards your goal.

It's all right.

Fulfill your needs and wants.

You to make the best in life
now that you got the chance.

Get up and step
towards your goal.

It's all right.

Yeah, yeah.

Some people read and meditate.

I just move scanty yo.

Some people are
conscious about life.

Others are still panting, yes.

Some people like
strong drink cold,

like champagne and brandy.

Babies love ice cream and
cake and cotton candy, yo.

I love herbs and girls, good
words, roots and mashanti, yo.

Girls love clothes, and shoes,
going to school brand new

and mean spanking, yo.

Yet we all need education,
because that's the damn thing,

yo.

All things fade,
leaving it standing.

It's for you to make
the best in life

now that you got the chance.

Yo, don't lie.

Pussy don't try.

Our war cry.

And the all the while we ask
for the strength to get by.

When you hear the
bullets whistle,

we call it the war cry.

Don't lie.

Pussy don't try.

War cry.

And all the while we ask
for the strength to get by.

When you hear the
bullets whistle,

we call it the war cry.

For cash.

And I always had a ratchet
I was quick to flash.

First dropped my hustle
running off an ounce of hash.

Now I'm grown.

I do big things.

I bang the mash.

For real.

I'm off
the grid, a corner.

I'm a pretty motherfucker
to find a bowler.

You think we're
nice, but still I

warn you, if you
ever come to test me,

I got something for you.

Listen.

Means the war is coming,
and it's really ragamuffin

that we don't know nothing.

I'm afraid if the
rapping don't pay

,, yo, back to the
road, we got gats to blaze,

you know?

Yo, don't lie.

Pussy don't try.

Our war cry.

And all the while we ask
for the strength to get by.

When you hear the
bullets whistle,

we call it the war cry.

Yo, don't lie.

Pussy don't try.

Our war cry.

And all the while we ask
for the strength to get by.

When you hear the
bullets whistle,

we call it the war cry.

Yo, I did the crime,
served the time.

Now I'm out, back on the road.

The world is mine.

Used to push the pen
and slam the cracks.

Now I'm hear pushing the
pen and slinging the reps.

Don't get it twisted, though.

We got the gats.

And we don't tit for
tat with tit for bluh.

And you don't need it, but
we do think, believe it.

We don't just stay
drunk and weeded.

Although we get
drunk and weeded,

then we keep up fuck for
the when the time comes

we're gonna need it.

This ain't Compton, blood.

We're straight out of London.

From Brixton to Junction,
which is how we function.

We hate feds and beat the police
with their own truncheons.

Time Served, the group number
1 with gangsta productions.

We rolling with knives.

We holding the heat.

Rage, Too Fine, and Finny,
we controlling the streets.

We shot the many mens on many
ends on the market supply,

so don't you rap with these
masters in the ghetto war cry.

Yo, don't lie.

Pussy don't try.

And all the while we
ask for the strength to get by.

When you hear the
bullets whistle,

we call it the war cry.

Yo, don't lie.

Pussy don't try.

Our war cry.

And all the while we ask
for the strength to get by.

When you hear the
bullet whistle,

we call it the war cry.