Original subtitles

Yeah.

Young man...

I'm not in the mood.

Yo.

Pay your fare.

You want a problem, you found the right one.

Who you talking to, pops?

Drive this bus, nigga.

Yo, chill, pops, I'm gonna pay you.

Let me get it.

Off the bus, young man.

Hey, can you spot me?

What?

I'm short $2.25 for my bus fare.

Spot me.

Naw, dude.

What the fuck you mean, "Naw, dude"?

What, you can't help a nigga out?

Bro...

Roshawn, you hear this motherfucker?

-Who? This pretty boy? -Yeah.

I asked him to spot me $2.25 for my bus fare.

"Naw, dude."

You look like a bitch.

-Yeah, nigga. -Y'all leave pretty boy alone.

You suck dick, nigga?

Yo, all of you, off the bus.

All of who?

I showed you my bus pass, nigga.

What the fuck is wrong with him?

You see, I was trying to be nice by asking you.

'Cause I ain't just want to take your shit.

Oh, I think he ignoring you, D.

You ignoring me, pretty boy?

Leave that young man alone. He ain't done nothing to y'all.

I said, you ignoring me?

Y'all should be ashamed of yourselves.

You gotta be ashamed of that wig, bitch.

Oh, shit, chill, man.

That's it. All of you. Off the bus. Off the bus now.

I don't know what's goin' on...

Yo!

Holy shit!

Y'all take this foolishness outside.

I'm calling 911, sir.

Oh, D, chill.

Oh my...

Why are you fucking with me, man?

You're fucking with me, man.

Out the door!

Oh, God.

Come on, chill! You already got him!

Oh my God.

What the hell just happened?

You okay, sir?

No, I'm not okay.

Sick of these young dummies on this route.

Sick of it.

You really need to go get your back checked out

'cause they pushed you pretty hard.

I usually don't work this route.

Somebody's always calling in sick.

Why are they messing with him for no reason?

Don't he go to our school?

Yeah, he's on the basketball team.

He wasn't even doing nothing to them.

I'm so sick of this shit.

Oh my God.

-Open the door, sir. -Oh my God.

It's the young man. They're after him.

Oh my God!

-Oh my God! They stomping him! -Oh my God!

Oh my God. They stomping him.

You can't just leave.

Damnit.

Get off that boy now.

I'm leaving, bye.

♪ When I was young It was rough ♪

♪ Didn't know how little I had ♪

♪ I walked the streets of the city ♪

♪ Saw what happens when life goes bad ♪

♪ Every day my pop would say ♪

♪ Go away and don't look back ♪

♪ So I left to find my dream ♪

♪ But this is where my heart is at, yeah ♪

♪ In the city's rain is where I see things ♪

♪ And the mess it makes ♪

♪ On the street ♪

♪ No shield for me I keep walking ♪

♪ Just like grass grows out of the stone looks like me ♪

♪ It keeps growing out of old concrete, yeah ♪

♪ Yeah, looks like me ♪

♪ Oh Lord, I said it looks like me, yeah ♪

♪ Looks like me, yeah ♪

♪ I'm trying to see me ♪

♪ Hmm, mm, mm, In South Winslow ♪

Once upon a time in South Winslow,

there was a young boy who always dreamed

of being a news reporter.

He had seen a movie on Edward R. Murrow,

one of the best to ever do it.

I knew in that moment that I wanted to be a journalist.

I dreamed of telling all the stories

in my once beloved city, South Winslow.

What happened to this place?

I was taught in school about Hughes' poem

that dreams deferred can dry up like raisins in the sun.

It turns out the same thing can happen to dreams realized

when others don't appreciate the essentiality of the dream.

Unending budget cuts have destroyed

the last newspaper in this city.

I fear what the loss of a free print press will mean

to a democracy already struggling.

Understanding this reality, I fought on for years.

That fight is lost.

Thus, it is with great sadness that I report to you today,

next week will officially be the last edition

of the South Winslow Times.

Signing off, yours truly,

Mason James.

♪ I'm only singing this song for all my survivors ♪

♪ You can say what you want, the one came to find us ♪

♪ See, on the day the plane crashed here ♪

♪ I lost everything, but I ain't passed yet ♪

♪ What is life for the hunting type ♪

♪ It's a rebel site ♪

♪ It's what it's like when you're born to fight ♪

♪ For what's better than life ♪

A shooting here

at this Tacoma Heights Apartment Complex

in South Winslow has left one woman dead

and an infant fighting for his life at this hour.

Police say the shooting was the result

of a domestic dispute.

Tamika Charles and her estranged boyfriend

got into an altercation late last night.

A little after that, neighbors heard the shooting.

Yo, Big.

Go get the motherfuckers, man.

♪ Welcome to Menace Land, Menace Land ♪

♪ Welcome to Menace Land, Menace Land ♪

♪ Menace Land, welcome to Menace Land, Menace Land ♪

♪ Menace Land, welcome to Menace Land, Menace Land ♪

♪ Ay, welcome to Menace Land, Menace Land ♪

♪ Ay, welcome to Menace Land ♪

♪ Run away, head shot, feel the pain, best buy, hurricane ♪

♪ No rest stop stunning man ♪

♪ Fresh style, what a day ♪

♪ Take a look at what the drummer say ♪

♪ This is that feeling no one can play ♪

♪ Once you feel it, ain't no other pain ♪

♪ Yeah, what would your mother say ♪

♪ Say it doesn't matter, there's no other way ♪

♪ There's another chapter on the other page ♪

♪ All this suffering making me suffocate ♪

♪ That's enough of fear, no to fuckery ♪

♪ If it's luck, I'll take it, chuck it to the lake ♪

♪ All this talking making me want levitate ♪

♪ While you stuck, I'll press the button, terminate ♪

♪ Wait, what did you wanna say ♪

♪ Couldn't hear you, what were all the stains ♪

♪ Crying for me, I don't know your name ♪

♪ Just another vessel on the way ♪

♪ Fear take over your body ♪

♪ Only if the love was built to break ♪

♪ There's a rhythm in the way of shade ♪

♪ Goodness sake, listen to the whistle lane in a way ♪

♪ Yeah, welcome to Menace Land, Menace Land ♪

♪ Ay, welcome to Menace Land, never change ♪

♪ Hey, welcome to Menace Land, Menace Land ♪

♪ Ay, welcome to Menace Land, Menace Land, Menace Land ♪

♪ Welcome to Menace Land, Menace Land, Menace Land ♪

♪ Welcome to Menace Land, Menace Land ♪

♪ Ay, welcome to Menace Land, Menace Land ♪

♪ Ay, welcome to Menace Land, Menace Land ♪

♪ Menace Land, welcome to Menace Land, Menace Land ♪

♪ Menace Land, welcome to Menace Land, Menace Land ♪

♪ Ay, welcome to Menace Land, Menace Land ♪

♪ Ay, welcome to Menace Land ♪

Emp?

Yeah?

You got a customer up there. Jose had to leave early.

All right, Big, look,

you watch the motherfuckers, man.

Q, you come with me.

Big, get your fat ass up

and watch the motherfuckers, man.

Just sat down, yo.

Niggas be lazy, yo.

Fuck you.

-T-Jay. -Mr. News Reporter.

You a news reporter, dog?

-I am. -What channel?

Oh, no, I'm a print reporter.

What's that?

Life does seem to punish me.

Look, he writes for the newspaper, Q.

-Not on TV, nigga. -Oh, the newspaper.

-They still got them hoes? -Hoes.

What paper?

I'd cry if I didn't have enough

of a sense of humor to understand that

this is good fodder for a story

on the state of journalism today.

Huh?

Look, he be talking to himself and shit, man.

You hilarious, Mason.

What newspaper you write for again?

Uh, the South Winslow Times.

Um, I didn't get your name.

It's Q.

-Mason James. -What's happening?

Nice to meet you, Q.

So what can I do for you, Mason?

Oh, uh, two of my tires are completely bald.

I'm about to kill myself in all this rain.

Well, shit, that ain't good. Let me take a look at it.

All right.

Whew.

-Mason, you okay? -I'll live.

Well, you're limping or something, man.

I'll live.

Look like you need to go to the doctor.

Doctor? That would just be another bill.

All right.

Let me see what you got here.

Oh my God. This weather is nuts.

My tires are wrecked.

Yeah, it's pretty bad, Mason.

Wow, okay. You see how bald they are?

Can you fix them?

I got you, man.

Yeah, yeah, you know what I'ma do with you when I get back.

-Yo, Q. -What's good, Emp?

What'd you just call me?

Yo, my bad, man, T-Jay.

My bad.

I need 225.

55 R-18.

All right, uh, 55 R-18.

Two of them.

All right.

Two.

Take a seat, Mason. We'll be right with you.

Damn, bitch, watch your teeth. Fuck.

Fuck.

-Oh, shit. Oh, shit. -Yeah, baby.

Shit, don't move. Don't move.

Fuck that pussy.

Shh, shh, shh. Just, just, just. Fuck.

Hurry up.

Where's my $10?

Shit, bitch, hold on.

Damn.

Yo, let me have a number 15.

And then let me get one of them blown wraps.

$12.87.

-You need bag? -Nah.

Yes, we are sad.

D!

D, hold up. Hold up.

-D? -What?

Have you heard they jumped your brother?

-What? -Terrell.

Jumped him? Who?

I don't know. He was on the bus.

-When? -After school.

My friend sent me the video.

The fuck?

The fuck?!

Fuck.

Shit, Terrell.

Fuck.

Shit, answer the phone, Terrell.

I don't know what's wrong, man. Answer the phone.

Fuck!

Ah. You all set, Mr. Reporter.

Ah, thank you, Q.

Uh, what does the Q stand for?

-Quentin. -Quentin.

There you go. I like that.

Hope it's okay that I call you Quentin.

Do you, playa.

What was that? Do? Oh... do me?

So many places to go with that.

But anyway.

Well, uh, thank you, Quentin.

Uh, how much do I owe you, T-Jay?

Just give me 40, Mason.

God bless you, my good man.

-Thank you, Mason. -No, thank you.

It's quiet around here today.

Yeah, so far.

You looking for a story or something?

Always looking for the story.

At least for another week.

Another week?

What, you quitting or something?

More like forced retirement.

I'm sorry to hear that.

No respect for us newspaper guys anymore.

But if you got a story for my last edition,

please share.

Well, we know it should be plenty going on

-in South Winslow. -You would think.

Our troubled city.

Hey, hey, Mason?

Look, word on the street is...

Black girls have been coming up missing.

You got some info on that?

Or is it the same online conspiracy

that the woke brothers are pushing?

I don't know what they say online.

But the streets are talking.

But look, I gotta get back to work.

Yes, yes, and so must I.

Uh, until next time.

♪ God gives me more with the things I'm blessed for ♪

That nigga weird, son.

He gay?

What?

Come on, man, I don't know that man's business, man.

T! T!

Fuck, come on, nigga. Answer the phone. Damn!

Damn!

Terrell! Terrell!

Terrell!

Terrell?

Oh my God! Oh my God. Oh my God.

Oh my God! Oh my God. Oh my God.

Help! Help! Please, somebody help me!

Everything okay back here?

They jumped my brother. He won't wake up.

Please help me. Please.

Your Honor,

Ms. Henderson has made great strides

since her last appearance.

Uh, she has a job now at the dollar market as a cashier.

Um... I have here a certificate of completion

of phase one of her anger management program.

Anyone here representing DFCS?

Yes, um, Ms. Toriella Martin from DCFS.

Ms. Martin, could you come forward, please?

This bitch.

Good afternoon, judge.

Please state your name.

Toriella Martin.

And what is your position, Ms. Martin?

I'm DCFS case worker, South Winslow,

badge number SW5613.

And have you heard the testimony regarding case, um...

30749789,

the State versus Ms. Tamara Henderson,

regarding her children,

10-year-old Royce Warren, 7-year-old Renysha Lovell,

and 6-year-old Tayshon Davis?

Yes, Judge.

And what say you?

We request that the court deny all visitation at this time.

All three children are thriving in their foster home,

and we recently asked Ms. Henderson

to complete all three phases of the program

before the court would consider visitation.

Mr. Rollins, I'm inclined

to go with the recommendation from DFCS,

especially considering Ms. Henderson's violent past.

Y'all some bum-ass motherfuckers.

-Hey, hey! -And now I am further inclined.

Ms. Henderson, request for visitation is denied.

That's fucked up y'all won't let me see my kids!

They're my kids!

And I know where you live, bitch.

What's your dry-ass weave?

And now I am holding you

in contempt of court.

I sentence you to one night in county jail

and a $1,000 fine.

Anything else, Ms. Henderson?

Stop.

Wait, so now I gotta go to jail?

And you're just standing there?

You're supposed to be my fucking lawyer!

Please take Ms. Henderson out of the court, please.

Old, fat-man-looking bitch!

Will there be anything else, Mr. Rollins?

No, Your Honor.

Court's adjourned.

-Miss Mims. -Oh, hi, Celia.

You have several calls from your son's coach.

Well, thank you. Your hair is cute.

Thank you. Trying something new.

It's cute.

He called several times.

-He said it's urgent. -Oh, okay.

Thank you.

Okay, uh...

listen up.

Everybody please listen up.

Let me get this out.

Uh... I don't wanna keep you long.

I know you wanna get out on your routes.

Uh... I wanna thank you for...

coming in a few minutes early.

How is Paul?

We heard he got attacked on his route?

Paul? Paul who? Crawford?

Uh, yeah. That's why I called you in here.

Paul Crawford is a regularly scheduled afternoon driver.

He was subbing for Route 87.

He was assaulted by a gang of thugs this afternoon.

Is he okay?

I don't have any information on his condition.

-He's in County General. -They found out who did it?

Well, that's why I have WTA Police Captain Garcia here.

-He wants to speak to you. -Hello, everyone.

Sorry to come before you under these circumstances, but yes.

Approximately 3:26 this afternoon,

911 received calls from Paul's bus from concerned patrons.

Paul had gone outside to break up a fight

when the young men turned on him.

The young men are still at large.

We're looking for three Black males in their early 20's.

If anyone hears anything about this,

we're asking that you contact us immediately.

Hey, 87 is my route.

People call it 187, right?

Yeah, it's dangerous. Always has been.

I've been saying this for years now.

Your safety is this department's number one concern.

Yeah, right.

That's why Captain Garcia is here.

You give him the respect he deserves.

I wanna remind everyone of our protocol.

At no time should you ever leave your bus

to break up an altercation or to confront anyone.

Always call us on your radio dispatch system.

Yeah, if it's working.

-Good luck. -Okay, please!

Listen up, please!

Always let WTA police handle any problems you encounter.

Now we are going to add another patrol to route 87,

and we are working with Winslow PD

in getting these guys off the street.

This is crazy.

You guys, go on. Get on your routes.

Be careful out there.

And you don't know anything

about Mr. Crawford's condition?

I believe it is not good.

Come on. Get to work.

Excuse me.

I'm sorry, but my son...

One moment, ma'am.

The line starts behind that lady there.

But my son is here and I'm just trying...

Ma'am, I understand that.

You will need to wait like everyone else.

Ms. Riley, this card is expired.

Do you have a valid card?

-Ms. Mims. -Coach Lowe, where's Terrell?

-Come on back, Ms. Mims. -Well, what happened?

Well...

Well, he got into it with some boys.

Well, some men on the bus, is what I'm hearing.

Got into it? Some men? What men?

I'm still trying to figure that out.

-Where's Terrell? -I'm trying to see if I can see

a doctor so he can come and talk to you.

Okay, well, where is Terrell?

I think that's the head nurse right there.

He's okay, isn't he?

I'm going to see if she can come talk to you.

Ma'am, this is Ms. Mims.

I need to know where my son is.

-What's your son's name? -Terrell Coleman.

The young man that came in with...

I understand, Coach. I wanna speak to his mother.

Hello, Ms. Mims. We have been trying to call you.

I will have the doctor come see you as soon as I can.

-Okay. -Your son came in

with very serious injuries, Ms. Mims.

Serious?

How serious? He's okay. Where is he?

Come. Let's sit down.

I don't wanna sit down.

Okay, then I will have the doctor

come talk to you.

Is everybody around here deaf? Where's my son?

We took your son into surgery.

-Surgery? -Yes, ma'am.

He came in with very bad injuries

from some sort of fight or something.

Fight? My son wouldn't be in no fight.

Who did this?

We don't know that.

Is there anyone we can call to be here with you?

Call? No.

I mean, well, yes. I tried to call his father,

but please tell me that he's gonna be okay.

Honestly, ma'am, your son has life-threatening injuries.

We are doing the best we can for him.

He's having emergency surgery.

I will have the doctor come talk to you.

Oh my God.

-Ms. Mims. -Oh, Devon,

what happened to your brother?

They jumped him, Mama Lisa.

Jumped him? Who jumped him? Were you there?

No. I don't know.

Some dudes on a bus did.

They stomped him out.

Stomped him?

Oh my God.

I can't do this.

I can't breathe.

Hey, hey, Rodney, get up. Get up.

Let Ms. Mims sit down.