Original subtitles

- [Announcer] To the max.

(ominous music)

(ominous music continues)

(ominous music continues)

- Y'all good? - Yeah.

- Took y'all long enough.

- Nigga, are you eating? - Yeah. Why?

- Fuck you mean why?

You got the nerve to eat after that you pulled in there.

- You what you mean?

- Nigga, when niggas are shooting at us,

I'm shooting back and you supposed to bust back too.

- Nigga, I let some shit off.

- You hit shit but shit rock, motherfucker.

The fuck you laughing at, Rome?

You were supposed to be in there with me.

You ain't even supposed to drive.

- Shit, y'all got it. - Yeah, a'ight.

(hip-hop music)

- Y'all laid those nigga down?

- Nah, those niggas are good.

- Yeah, but they gonna live in the wheelchair now though.

- That funny to you, nigga? - Nah, not really.

- Why the fuck are you cracking jokes, man?

- Man, nigga chill.

You know when I get nervous I say silly shit.

- Shit, you must always be nervous.

Where do you get them chips from anyway?

- They was on the counter next to Tampico juice.

I saw 'em halfway open so I said fuck it.

- Shit, let me get some. - Hell no.

The fuck are y'all niggas doing?

Y'all just gonna snack while we trying to get away

from a fucking crime scene?

- We done got away already. We fleeing.

- And I'm hungry. - We not eating shit nigga

until we dump these fucking clothes and burn his truck up.

- You seen this nigga snatch the bag before you even acted.

You want some? That was rude as fuck?

If you wanted some you should have just asked, nigga.

- You said Tampico juice?

- Yeah nigga, but I ain't bring it 'cause I had no cups.

You want more? - Hell no, nigga. Stop.

(hip-hop music)

- A'ight cool, nigga. All right here's the plan, nigga.

Rome, you going to dump this shit,

set this motherfucker on fire, nigga,

and shit gonna be done.

TK, now get to your car and go straight home, nigga.

But don't stay. Get on the road.

Get the fuck outta Dodge for like two or three weeks.

Fuck that, a month, all right?

- Oh yeah, yeah, yeah. I know, I know,

'cause the police gonna be looking for us and shit.

- Nah, they gonna be looking for whoever.

- What you mean whoever? Nigga, we did it.

- Nigga, they don't know that shit, bro.

That's why they gonna be looking for whoever.

- Okay well shit nigga, if they don't know who did it,

why the fuck do we gotta live out of town?

Why can't we just stay here

and just live our life like shit is regular.

- No nigga, we gotta dip from the city

just in case something happen.

- Something like what, nigga?

- Something else could happen. We don't know.

That's why we leaving, just to make sure, nigga.

We went through this, TK.

Why you acting like you ain't never hit a lick before?

- Nigga, 'cause I ain't never did a lick like this before.

I robbed a pawn shop with that stupid-ass nigga, Darnell.

But we ain't had to live outta town afterwards.

- Nigga, y'all should have got outta town

'cause Darnell dumb-ass is locked up now.

- Not for the shit that we did.

That was some other shit he did.

- Whatever nigga. Here bro.

Look, it's a burner, my nigga.

Don't call it, don't use it.

I'm gonna call you on it, a'ight?

- It's a big-ass phone. All right.

- And don't say shit if you get jammed up.

Keep your mouth shut.

- Nigga, I know, I know.

Nigga, here you go with that lecture shit,

nigga snitches he get stitches.

- Snitches get coffins, nigga.

- Nigga, that don't even rhyme.

- I'm not playing, nigga.

Go home and get the fuck out of the city, a'ight?

- All right. - I'm serious, my nigga.

The whole hook gonna be on your ass if you run your mouth.

- Hey hold up, nigga.

Why you holler at me like I'm some buster

or something, nigga?

- 'Cause sometimes you have done

some buster shit before, bro.

- When I do some buster shit, nigga?

- Remember when you robbed that liquor store

and you left your ID on the counter?

- Nigga, that was years ago.

I was 17 and I was faded off four wine coolers

and a Zima, nigga.

- And what about when you cried

when the homie dog barked at you?

- Hey nigga, that was a pitbull, nigga.

It had white shit foaming out the mouth

like little Boosie, and you can't tell me

that shit wasn't rabies, nigga.

- This nigga always got excuses, man.

- Just get outta town, my nigga, a'ight?

Let's go, bro. And don't fuck around.

I don't wanna hear nothing else.

- All right, my nigga. I heard you.

I'm just going to just fuck around and go to Vegas

or go gamble or something.

- No dude, don't go to Vegas, nigga.

You gonna fuck around and get distracted

and do some dumb shit in Vegas and get caught up.

- Please don't let this nigga go to Vegas.

Matter of fact, go to Phoenix.

Go out there and chill with Lanisha and them.

- Right, right, right,

'cause that'd be a cool alibi-type shit.

- It's not an alibi, nigga. We just did the shit.

- All right, all right, all right.

- For real, nigga. Drive outta town, bro, Phoenix.

Go far bro, and don't look back.

- I heard you, nigga. - Just remember

what I'm saying man. - All right, nigga.

I heard you. - TK.

Poncho, nigga, you just gave me a whole lecture

about not snitching.

Nigga, I heard you.

- Check this out, but you ain't gonna have to snitch

'cause you ain't gonna stay here.

You gonna get the fuck outta town, right?

- Yes, nigga. - And remember, nigga,

keep your mouth closed. - All right, nigga,

which one you want me to do?

You want me to get the outta Dodge

or you want me to keep my mouth closed?

- Both. - Both.

- The fuck you talking about, nigga?

TK stop playing, man. - I'm fuckig with y'all.

Nigga, y'all know I ain't gonna say shit.

- All right. - Loose lip sink ships.

- Indeed. Hey don't stop nowhere.

Don't try to get no ass on the way out.

Nigga, fuck all that shit.

Get to where you gotta. Nigga, just go.

- That's fucked up too. All right, all right.

I'll pack my bags, I'll leave. - Don't stop for nothing.

- If this nigga say this one more fucking time...

All right, I heard you fool, loud and clear.

(suspenseful music)

Yeah.

For real. Just what a nigga needed.

(suspenseful music)

The shit on fire.

(suspenseful music)

(suspenseful music continues)

She will hit me later. I'll blow her motherfucking back out.

(suspenseful music)

- Tyrell. Boy, what the fuck you done did?

- What? - Police outside.

Got the whole motherfucking block lit up.

The fuck, nigga.

The fuck you got...

I got drugs in the freezer. Motherfucker.

Get up.

- Fuck!

(suspenseful music)

Fuck!

- Don't even fucking move.

(suspenseful music)

I am Detective Armstrong.

(suspenseful music)

You look a little bit nervous, son.

- I ain't nervous. - Then why are you sweating?

You look like you've been running a marathon.

You know, I've been doing this a very long time, son.

A long, long time.

And I mean a long time,

in the famous words of Bill Duke.

You know you fucked up, right?

No. You know you fucked up.

You see, I know fear when I smell it.

As a matter of fact...

(detective sniffing)

Damn.

(detective sniffing)

You smell that?

Smell like straight bitch.

- Look, first off, I don't know what you talking about.

Secondly, nigga, I ain't no bitch.

- There you is.

You see, you and your boys left a long trail

and it's just a matter of time before everything comes in

and you'll be singing like Giveon.

Yeah, Giveon.

(suspenseful music)

- Let's go, keep it moving. Let's go, let's go.

- Oh what, you know him?

- Nah, I don't know that nigga.

- According to body language and eye contact,

he sure looked like he knew you.

You know what your damn problem is, little nigga?

- I ain't got no problem. - Oh you got

a motherfucking problem.

You think you built for this shit, huh?

You really think you built for this.

I see little niggas like you come through here

all the time, man, in and out thinking they tough.

But you know what happens?

Soon dinner comes around, you break.

- Poncho. There.

What's up, baby?

Take this fucking hood off of my...

You know what I mean?

Yeah, yeah.

Poncho. What's up, baby?

My man D.

Hey D, let's get this out the way, brother.

I got witnesses saying that you was at the house.

- What house? - What house?

Deandre Burden's house.

- Who the fuck is that? - Who that?

You an ignorant motherfucker, ain't you?

All right, okay.

Hmm. Well where do we start?

You and your crimey, right,

shot him and Dontrell Thomas last night

or did you forget? - Who the fuck is Dontrell

and what you talking about, crimey?

Who is crimey? - You wanna keep

playing games, don't you? - I'm trying to figure out

what the fuck you talking about.

You speaking a language I don't understand, man.

- You don't understand? You don't understand.

Oh you missed Untouchable.

You missed Untouchable, huh?

Keep on fucking with me. Keep on.

Your ass gonna end up in the cage.

- My nigga, I was born in the cage, homie.

- Are you hungry? - Nah, I already ate.

- Oh yeah, that's right. Jack In The Box.

Oh where that smile go?

Yeah that's right.

We seen you in a Jack In The Box drive-thru, dummy.

- All right, so? Nigga, I was hungry.

Fuck that mean? - Oh, I get it.

You can work up an appetite after a home invasion robbery.

Piece of shit.

- Yeah, you look like

one of them Crenshaw mafia motherfuckers.

Remember the old nigga said that in the movie?

That's you. You look like the nigga.

You know what?

You know your boy in the next room,

you know, maybe you might wanna holler at him, man.

He's not as solid as you think.

- The fuck does that even mean, dog?

- I tell you what, I'll make a deal with you.

I bet you I'll get you the snitch for you a little,

guarantee you.

Yeah. Your man in there ratting already.

He's ratting in there. He's singing.

Country music, nigga, R&B. Pick one.

You want my Randy Jackson glasses?

I bet you, he in there telling on you, nigga.

- Again, I don't know who the fuck

supposed to be giving me up.

I ain't do shit. - This is somebody's son

right here, that his spot of blood,

you little motherfucker, with your fingerprints

all over you, you son of a bitch.

- You ain't got my fingerprints nowhere.

- You know I was wondering,

is that Cheeto dust dried up under your fingertips?

Yeah, I know you wondering,

how do I know about the Cheetos?

You Cheeto-eating motherfucker.

- You keep talking about an empty bag of fucking Cheetos

that I don't see nowhere.

- Do I gotta go get the bag?

I mean 'cause I could go get the bag if it jogs your memory.

- I got a magic trick for your ass.

Shit.

Yeah. Look at that.

Whoops. I know what you thinking.

How did I end up with this? Huh?

Where did he get this from?

How'd he get this? Huh?

I got connections around here, baby.

You know what?

You sitting here thinking

how did I get this when I told my man, crimey,

to get rid of this with the car?

He didn't do it.

We got a second set of prints

but they cheesier than a motherfucker, though.

Hey baby. Huh?

Lemme ask you a question.

Who they belong to?

- The reason why we even knew where to come pick you up at,

at your granny's house is because Rome told us

where to find you and Poncho, nigga.

Smart man.

Oh okay, So I finally got your attention now, huh?

After seeing Rome on the surveillance tapes,

we figured he'd take the 10 East.

We caught him a few miles down the road

with a full gas can in his trunk.

- The that gotta do with me?

- You see, we knew Rome was gonna go burn the getaway car

but we got to his dumb ass before he can do that.

So tell me TK, do niggas have an extra car

parked in the desert not too far away from the getaway car?

I'm just curious.

- How the fuck would I know? I wasn't even there.

- Neither was Poncho.

We found him not too far away from Rome

but he was headed to the Bay.

And you know what's something, man?

Maybe you can help me out with this,

'cause this this is just puzzling my mind,

I just can't get this wrapped around my head

for some reason.

Now, Rome and Poncho were on the highway headed out of town,

but you, you hardcore,

you was at home, laying in the bed in a fucking food coma.

I mean, what the was you doing laying around?

You just waiting to get caught?

- Look here, you weird-ass nigga,

I just told you I fell asleep after fucking up my food.

Tonight was a regular night for me.

- Look here, you little weird motherfucker,

see I already know where you was at.

You was with your big homie, Derrick Jefferson

and that dumb-ass motherfucker,

Rome Topaz, with his dumb ass.

Yeah, your crimey, shooting and robbing

Deandre and Dontrell. - You keep saying

I shot somebody. - Well then charge me nigga,

otherwise shut the fuck up.

- Yeah, you should relax a little bit, D.

That's your man? That's your man?

- Like I said, you ain't got my prints on shit.

- How long you been practicing that line?

You knew we was gonna be on.

Look at me when I'm talking to you, big man.

- You know what I think?

I think you just talking shit.

The more I sit here and listen to you run your mouth,

I realize, nigga, you just guessing.

I think if the niggas, Deandre and them Willie got shot,

y'all deal with any average cop in the city

with some common sense would do.

They look at the surveillance

from every fucking gas station, every liquor store

in the neighborhood.

Boom, find this nigga Rome on camera,

but he got priors so y'all follow the nigga.

Y'all don't know shit. Y'all just fucking fishing.

Fuck out of here, man.

- Rome gave you and Poncho up, man.

- You keep saying that but I'll call cap.

You came to my house on a whim, nigga.

You know that Rome is my homeboy,

so you figured if he had something to do with something,

we did too.

No the fuck we didn't and neither did Rome.

Oh yeah, y'all saw them niggas on a freeway traveling

to go visit family.

Since when is that a crime?

It ain't. Rome was going to Vegas.

Who the fuck don't want to go to Vegas?

Poncho seeing his people in Oakland.

Now you tripping about having gas in their truck.

It's hella niggas that do that, man.

It's called being responsible.

- Smart mouth, hardcore nigga,

weird-ass little nigga.

You just think you got this all figured out, huh?

- Come to think about it,

y'all probably got all three of our addresses on five.

Once you seen Rome at the gas station in close proximity

to whatever the fuck's supposed to happen,

y'all sent the unit to follow Rome

while the nigga was on the freeway.

- So you watch a lot of crime shows, huh, little nigga?

- Nah, it's just common sense and y'all fucking stupid.

- Look here, you little bitch,

all that little shit, you talking back and forth,

is cute and all, but I...

- Yeah, "I got evidence."

All right. Where is it at then?

If you had a weapon to the so-called shooting that happened,

you would've had that bitch on the table by now.

Where the fuck it's at?

- TK, you ever wonder how this going to end, man?

I mean 'cause this ain't the movies, kid.

This is reality. Real life.

I mean think about it.

23 hours locked up, no sunshine, no daylight,

just your little thoughts.

I'm trying to give you a chance to come clean, man.

Just come clean. - Come clean about what?

- You go in front of that judge

and you get your sentence and get your time,

there ain't nothing I can do for you, man.

It's too late then.

You gonna be locked up in the tank

with the rest of them niggas.

Oh, then niggas really find some time

to want to talk then or find somebody to talk to.

But it be too late, man. Reality has set in.

Tell me something, TK.

- You might as well let me go

'cause you done tried everything and I ain't saying shit.

- We ain't tried everything.

(phone ringing)

It's for you.

(phone ringing)

Tilman.

Yes sir.

He's right here.

Yep, he's right here.

10/4

- Who the fuck was that?

(Tilman laughing)

- D, don't fuck with me.

(ominous music)

Hey, hate to be you.

You should put your hoodie back on.

(Tilman laughing)

- Oh I get it. You've been here a while now, TK,

and I'm sure you done worked up your appetite by now.

How about I go get you Omar Burger?

- I told you I wasn't hungry, nigga, damn.

- I mean, you ain't gotta be hungry

'cause I know I'm starving like a motherfucker, man.

How about I get you some fries and a drink,

and maybe something else.

- Man, I know what you're trying to do.

You're trying to play good cop,

trying to gimme some Omar Burger,

Let me get full as fuck and then get comfortable

with the (indistinct) and shit and get to squealing.

Nigga no.

You thinking too deep, little nigga.

I just want to help you with some grub.

- I ain't got shit to talk about, detective.

- You know what I love, TK,

is breaking them tough niggas down.

Something about them tough niggas.

They all think,

"No, you ain't going to make me bail,

you ain't gonna break me."

Sooner or later something happens

and they become poets, writing great poems.

Langston Hughes, motherfucker.

Now, you wanna write me a little poem tonight?

- Nah, I ain't no snitch.

And if I was, it wouldn't matter

'cause it ain't to snitch about.

- Hmm, I'm impressed. Very impressed.

I mean, I gotta hand it to you, man,

outta all three of y'all,

we thought you would be the one

to be the Langston Hughes in this bitch,

but shit, hell, you fooled me.

(ominous music)

Get him the fuck up outta here, man.

(ominous music)

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(upbeat music)

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- [Announcer] To the max.

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