Original subtitles

♪ Red Chucks, burgundy fleece Baggies with a crease ♪

The music, it passed down from Big Daddy to Mom to James and then to me,

and you just want me to waste it?

Wanda, do not encourage the rap dreams.

And that boy's going to play for the church.

Nigga, you sign this shit already?

Yeah.

The whole reason this all came together is

because this pretty young thing walked into your life.

I figured we'd start with a single with your artist.

When that music came on and Artillery started rapping,

a new world opened up.

Strip this nigga.

Money or war. Can't be both.

-Gonna put your name behind this truce? -On everything I do.

He just dropped that song about the cop who got killed a few weeks ago.

♪ Come and go with me to my father's house To my father's house ♪

♪ Come and go with me to my father's house To my father's house ♪

♪ There'll be no crying there ♪

♪ There'll be no dying there ♪

♪ Come and go with me to my father's house To my father's house ♪

♪ In my father's house ♪

♪ There's so many mansions there ♪

♪ If it were not true… ♪

-Yeah, come on with it. -Thank you, baby.

Ain't nuthin', man.

Freeze!

-Quit running! Stop! -Shit.

Call it in!

Oh, shit. Where'd he go?

I don't see him.

Where the fuck is he?

It was a time where everybody wants to be in music.

It don't matter what I was doing, I always had rap music in my mind, man.

In the '90s, man, this was a beautiful time.

All we wanted to do was low ride and try to get a record deal somewhere.

Everybody wanted to do that. You wanted to be a part of the madness.

Everybody had a plug.

But you had to have a sound,

a distinctive sound,

to grab and snatch somebody's ear.

Crazy, man.

The final mix on "Rydah" is due this week. The ask is 150.

Photo shoot, press packets, radio servicing...

Rap is one hour a week on MTV. That's the market we bet on.

Hip-hop is bigger than Black folks.

This artist is a gangbanger who taunts the police on every track.

Okay, so we only care about criminals who carry guitars?

Come on. Guys, Straight Outta Compton's about to go...

Alternative sales are climbing. Grunge is the future.

Forty fucking million dollars.

That is how much we blew following Cal's vision.

Come on. This Artillery kid is a star, Zo.

Maybe. But your father spent 30 years building his legacy.

And as his COO, I gotta protect that, Jen.

-What's left in the dev allocation? -300,000.

-Cut it in half. -Reallocate the other 150 to alternative.

Enzo.

I'm sorry, kid.

Fuck.

How close is "Rydah"?

-Uh, a couple days, but we... -Make it tomorrow.

I'm moving up the photo shoot.

Bring me Artillery and the masters. I'm gonna take care of the rest.

I'll handle the plug.

You just better make damn sure your people deliver.

-You hear me? -They will, Darryl.

Let's go.

I appreciate you stopping by.

No problem. So, look, your grandson might need a conversation.

I mean, the boy's been doing great since we let him back home.

Not James. Lamar.

Yeah. An officer was killed a few weeks ago,

and this rapper made a song disrespecting him.

-Disrespecting a dead man? -Right.

And that cop was CRASH.

And word in the street is Lamar's working with this guy.

He could get himself in trouble.

Hey, please. My wife cannot know about this.

Quick dip to the right.

And welcome to where history is made.

Oh, my God. They got an SSL console.

You young cats need me, I'll be in the reception area.

Andy, it's a quad set.

We-We could use the back bus instead of the groups for the drum subs, man.

Lamar, they got an SP-1200.

And a Roland keyboard!

Let's cook.

Hell, yeah. We can finish the mix down on "Rydah" real quick in here.

Uh…

About that, I-I kinda wanna wait until Artillery gets here to finish that.

Fuck you mean? We already got the verses and the ad libs.

Um, just feel like we need some punch-ins around the hook.

You know, clean it up a little bit.

Also kinda wanted to work on something new.

Goddamn it, I knew it.

No. Lamar, we not in your bedroom no more.

We on deadline, homie.

Come on. This shit is big for me too.

Nothing new until we finished the mix on "Rydah."

Why are we fucking around with a single when we are so much more?

This nigga…

Fuck, that shit hard.

Come on, man. This is our chance.

Okay, all right. When… When Art get here, we get to work?

Yes, okay?

I just wanted to experiment with these…

Beautiful elements.

-What you thinkin'? -I'm thinking album, Andy.

Come on.

Mm-hmm.

Wow.

Sound like you missed that.

-She did. -Oh, yeah?

But for real…

You know, I could feel it on you when you walked in.

What?

That edge is back.

Look, I ain't back in the streets, Swan.

Well, you fuck like it.

You know, I, uh…

I do everything that Big Daddy asks me to.

You know, I keep the machines running at the Wash House,

keep the apartments in line.

I really be trying to show cuz that, like, I'm…

I'm changed, you know what I mean?

But you can't just come back home, start going to church again,

and think Big Daddy's just gonna forget.

Stop letting it drag out.

He's waiting for you to bring it to a head.

Make him decide now.

Lamar, you finished the mix on "Rydah" yet? Timeline's moved up.

-Jenny needs it by tomorrow. -I'm working on it,

and I was finishing it right now, but I wanna play you something new first.

Hell, no. We not doing that today. Did you hear what I just said?

Jenny is desperate.

If we deliver the mix to "Rydah," we will own her ass.

Lamar.

This ain't street. This is radio.

Exactly.

Do you think we could play it for her tomorrow?

Hell fucking yeah.

Now that we past the politics, we…

She gonna be in a great mood at the photo shoot.

I just want her to hear it.

I want her to know I am more than one song.

Maybe she likes it so much that she swaps it out for "Rydah" as the single.

-I mean, it might be too late, but... -Who cares? Look.

This is a hit.

Either way, we might flip this into something bigger.

It's a win-win, and you play it, you let her decide.

I just love that we growing into a unit.

Me and you should probably go and get a drink sometime.

A little margarita or somethin'. Not on no romance shit.

-Just, you know, business. -Lamar?

You got the winning hand.

Just finish the mix for "Rydah," all right?

I will, I will. Just gotta play the song for her, okay?

I want it to be a-a mutual relationship between me and the label.

It will. Now, run that shit back.

It's dope!

-Ooh! -That shit smell booty as hell.

Oh, my God.

You too good for a bologna sandwich now, huh?

Are you too good for a fade? Cut your hair.

-Shut your ass up, man. He in the studio. -Shut up nothing.

You know it's hard for me to walk up in this Crip house.

Take your punk ass home then.

Thought you was slowing down with all that.

Yeah, me too.

So look. Macroscope set up a photo shoot tomorrow,

so Big Mo's gonna line you up so you look right.

I don't know.

What you mean, you don't know?

Just 'cause I signed some papers don't change shit.

The cops still trying to put me in the ground.

Cops ain't gonna disappear a nigga with a record deal.

So get your head right, you hear me?

Once you're famous, you won't need to hide from cops no more.

So your brother's making songs about dead cops?

Uh, that was before they met.

LAPD don't care about that, especially Gang Unit.

Gerty ain't never got over what music did to your mama in this house.

I already know. You ain't gotta tell me.

Look, I don't care what men do.

But if it messes with my wife, now I got a problem.

Aight, now. Come on with it.

Wanda got him a record deal.

He signed a contract.

How could you let this happen?

I want the family business, sir.

Lamar, he 19 now.

He hardheaded, and maybe it's time he, like, learned on his own.

That's her. Let me think about this, all right?

We'll figure out this Lamar business before it gets to her.

Yes, sir.

♪ Oh, yeah Muthafuck the police, nigga ♪

♪ Red Chucks Burgundy fleece ♪

♪ Baggies with a crease ♪

♪ Loaded Glock always in reach Even when I'm asleep ♪

♪ Suckers creep But got this beat till they… ♪

Okay, what if he's leaning out the driver's side window,

throwing up the set, 40 in the other hand?

Mmm, feels like he's trying too hard. Needs to convey he's king.

That's dope. Like he's already on top.

Have him sitting on the windshield.

Like the whole block belongs to him.

I like that. Yeah?

Why don't you go check on wardrobe for me, okay?

Who's gonna wear that?

Every rapper you know is going to be wearing this next year.

Definitely not Artillery.

Y'all hear "rap," and think New York.

Whole time… LA's coming for y'all asses.

That says he's made it but he hasn't forgotten where he came from.

Wanda, when am I gonna be able to play Jenny my music?

Not yet. Business first, then move.

This shit is light as a Happy Meal toy.

Y'all motherfuckers spending $50,000 to take photos of fake chains?

Fuck is wrong with y'all niggas?

Darryl, I need you and Dara to just chill today, okay?

I'm not asking you to let shit go, but…

Be fucking professional.

Jenny's emptying Daddy's coffers to make me richer.

Fuck I look like, fucking up the game?

Wha…

Where's Artillery?

Dara.

-He ain't coming. -What the fuck you mean, he ain't coming?

-You were supposed to bring him. -Don't you put this on me.

-Not now… -Is there a problem?

-No. -Artillery ain't here.

-What? -What the…

You motherfuckers had one assignment, Wanda.

Do you guys have any idea the shit that I had to pull to get this done?

-I'll call him. -Wanda,

Enzo's gonna have my fucking neck for this.

-Jenny… -Where the fuck's Artillery?

Miss Favarella, I'm sorry Art couldn't be here.

-I have something that might make... -I'm so sorry. Who the fuck are you?

-The producer for "Rydah." -What?

-I have another record I think... -My God. Wanda,

-what is this child talking about? -Lamar. Okay, I need you to just…

You said that I would be able to play her my music.

Does now look like the fucking time? Shit is on fire right now, Lamar.

What does that have to do with my music, Wanda?

Okay, cousin, just give me the mix to "Rydah."

I don't have it.

-What? Lamar. Lamar. Lamar! -Hey, Wanda.

Wanda.

I need a fucking drink.

Just so you know, Wanda, you fucked it.

If you don't listen to anything I have to tell you, listen to this:

The artist never knows what's good for them, okay?

Never.

How am I supposed to help them make great music like that?

They are retarded children, okay?

And it is your job to make sure

they don't fuck their careers and our asses.

-His new song is actually... -No. Fuck, man.

Look, you and I are in the same boat, Wanda.

I can tell.

Okay, and when you're under it, and you're a woman,

you hit the day like it's a fucking war.

-Goddamn right. -That's right, sister.

Look, this entire music industry looks at me

like I am Mario Favarella's inept fucking daughter,

and that is my war, okay?

And my dad is so fucked-up that he plays into it.

So if you, Wanda, or Artillery, or your cousin,

or that sinister little fucking mulatto girl are not in the same war,

okay, my dad wins, and we're dead.

-Okay. -No surprise songs, Wanda.

"Rydah" is the single, and that single is our life raft.

Yo, Artillery's not coming.

Fuck you.

Instead of sitting here, why don't we finish the mix on "Rydah"?

I already finished it.

I'm just not giving it to 'em.

You had it?

What about me, man?

Huh? Or Wanda?

We only get paid when we hit deadlines.

The new song is better. You heard it.

Lamar…

I came to say sorry.

You didn't even play her my song, Wanda.

I'm not trying to fight.

But you need to become a businessman right now.

We need that mix, or this dies.

I know you. You're a perfectionist.

You probably got four different versions of the "Rydah" mix

ready to ship out.

I told you I've already been just working on the new song.

You'd get it if you made music.

-What? Fuck you. -Agreed.

Sitting here burning other people's money instead of finishing a song

that could save Artillery's life, and Jenny's, and mine...

-And mine. -Shut the fuck up, Andy!

The label picked a single that you made them.

Jenny's desperate, so she's gotta put everything behind us.

Jenny is a cog.

Her entire legacy is aping two-bit bands that ape Black music.

Really? Fuck her for being the only person besides me to back your music.

Wanda, if I can't choose the songs people hear,

what is the point of making music?

Man, you can't hide that mix much longer.

I know. I-I hear you, Jenny.

No, there's still no final mix, and no one has eyes on Artillery.

I know. I'll get it handled. Bye.

That little nigga finished yet?

I need your help getting the mix. But you gotta promise to do it my way.

-Lamar lied. -What?

He finished it. Probably a long time ago.

I could tell the way his ass panicked when I got near the reels.

Little motherfucker. Playing with my money.

Fuck.

So what you're talking about is…

Getting these gangs back structured and on protocol,

but them days is long gone.

Well, we start by organizing men like you to step in

and speak directly to these gangs.

Men who mean something in them streets.

I hear you.

Come on, Big Daddy. Already got the machines working just how I want.

-Why you messing with my work, man? -Hey, look who it is.

-What up, Lee? Hey. -When you gonna hit that pig iron?

-You're looking weak, boy. -Man, you crazy.

Hey, these hands still work, though.

Hey, they better still work. Let me see some.

Hey, I'll leave y'all to it.

We'll be in touch.

All right, homie.

Look, I know why you're here, and I've thought about it.

I'm gonna have you fall back from the business and focus on Lamar.

Fall back… how?

I mean, right now you're out. 'Cause family comes first.

God. You tripping right now.

Hey, hey. You better watch that.

Okay, then. Help me understand how…

How shit always fall back on me.

Y'all let this get to my wife.

Big Daddy, I've been back in this house for two years now, man.

Two years, Big Daddy. Following every word that you say.

I told you to get this situation under control.

Lamar's not my son.

No, motherfucker.

But he ain't your daughter.

And he ain't dead.

You don't know nothing about sacrifice.

If you did, you'd say, "Thank you, sir,

for giving me an opportunity you never had."

Oh, yeah, we got the fruit punch.

-Do we need all this milk, though? -Nah, I don't think so.

Y'all little nigglets enjoying the Black Banner perks?

I want my shit now.

Nigga, where's my reels?

Give me my reels.

Hey!

I… I never mark my music with the real name.

You lost this one, my man.

But if this catches on at radio,

you might get a chance to do that other song.

Get out of here, little nigga.

Hold on. I'm coming.

Caught his little Smokey Robinson-looking ass up the block.

Get your ass in the house.

Thanks.

Sure, D.

Fuck is wrong with you coming up here? You trying to get yourself killed?

I need you to help me find Artillery.

We have to find a way to get this tape to Jenny in time,

before "Rydah" goes out to the radio.

Can you take me to where he's at?

Can I… Baby, that's not a place for rabbits.

I'll be fine if you're with me, right?

Wanda's gonna have to sign off on that.

Oh, no, no, no. Do not call Wanda.

She's just gonna call my family.

She wants to push "Rydah."

It's not gonna be good for the song we want. It's gonna be too...

Hello. Wanda. Yeah, it's me.

Yeah, he's up here with me.

Well, look, I'm about to take him up to the blue apartments

regardless of what you say.

What the fuck, Dara?

I know, I know. Fuck me. But you better come up here before we leave.

What the fuck, Dara...

Let's go, OG.

-Yeah, there you go. -Yeah. Come on. All that.

Come on. Yeah.

♪ Uh, there goes the neighborhood… ♪

This ain't smart, Lamar.

Rolling up unannounced.

And how Artillery chilling in a Crip neighborhood anyway?

He used to stay there till Granny died, so they don't really sweat him.

Well, we don't know these people.

Can't be that much worse than that house full of Bloods.

That's normal, Lamar. That's where this music comes from.

Well, then this will be a learning trip.

Come on now.

-♪ There goes the neighborhood ♪ -What type of shit you on, nigga?

♪ Look, look, look, look ♪

-♪ There goes the neighborhood ♪ -Yeah.

♪ Anytime when I blow that loud They like ♪

♪ "There goes the neighborhood" ♪

♪ I represent that, don't forget that Don't forget that shit ♪

♪ There goes the neighborhood ♪

♪ All good, back to business Mental peripheral ♪

♪ Free lunch, well, punk, Catch your fat ass centennial ♪

♪ Birds fly, spotlight on us There goes the birds-eye ♪

♪ Thick hood bitches that's with it Give them the third eye ♪

♪ Curbside out here Hanging, banging whatever you claiming ♪

♪ Ready to die for it Bullshit, ain't got time for it ♪

♪ New life trying to get East side ♪

♪ We're shining again Niggas know what's up ♪

♪ I'm from the home Of the baby daddies and baby mamas ♪

♪ Where the baby mama fucking Their baby daddy cousin now ♪

♪ But the BD ain't tripping 'Cause his baby mama sister ♪

♪ Is who this nigga is fucking now Shit is fucking wild, ain't it? ♪

♪ The best artist couldn't paint A picture this vividly ♪

♪ Roll a gram, hit Tam's And pray he catches the enemy, though ♪

♪ 'Cause niggas know where I'm from ♪

♪ Every time they see me They like, "There goes the neighborhood" ♪

-♪ Yeah, and it's like that ♪ -♪ Like that ♪

What you got, OG?

♪ It's your friendly neighborhood player, Partner PP ♪

♪ Yeah, yeah ♪

♪ If it's good to you It must be good for you ♪

♪ I ain't gonna hold back the pickles The lettuce and the mustard ♪

♪ I'ma gonna give you The whole hamburger, man ♪

♪ Yeah, I'm coming all the way live ♪

♪ From putting the wig on a pig And the girdle on a turtle, boy ♪

So your brother's making songs about dead cops?

I'm gonna have you fall back from the business.

'Cause family comes first.

So how you better than this fool when he pro and you ain't?

Who? Baron? Man, I used to go to that nigga's hood.

I'm talking about right in that nigga's hood. Dog walk cuz.

In house shoes.

In house shoes?

Fuck. This better not be Detail.

Dude acting like I'm his homie since I put this studio in here.

Walking in like you pay rent.

Lucky I ain't charge you rent, little nigga.

Lucky I ain't pop your ass.

Damn! What's up, baby? You need some Crippin' in your life?

-No, she don't. -It's Wanda.

-Aight. -Lamar.

What's that?

I don't know. I haven't figured it out yet.

-We've been looking for you for days. -Can we holler at you real quick?

Look like one of them Monchhichi motherfuckers.

I hate those ugly things.

Hey, don't let this nigga get the Niners.

Just gonna do that gay-ass move and run back to his own end zone.

So this is where you recorded "Officer Blackman." I can feel it.

That rawness in the record, it's, like, living right here in the room.

Still got the same energy and everything.

Hey, baby.

Drawers.

Needed them.

Yeah.

Hut! Hut! Hut!

What you come here for anyway, blood?

Uh, I really need you to record something...

Art, you keep dropping that B-Dog hoo-ride I'ma have to fuck you up again.

Nigga, we one and one.

But you're right. My bad. What you saying?

I need you to drop a verse on this. Like, as soon as possible. Like, tonight.

Yo, my man.

You give the slightest fraction of a fuck about my existence?

It don't gotta be nothing crazy.

I just need a rough so that we can get it to Macroscope.

They're gonna hear your hot-ass...

How could you look at this fucked-up situation,

while I'm on the run, and try to talk to me about recording?

Fuck wrong with you?

He not in his right mind right now. We should just come back another time.

No. No. Fuck, no. I need this, Wanda.

Nigga…

I need this song.

Maybe if he hears it, like last time, he'll understand.

This ain't like last time. Lamar!

What happened to the sound?

Stop. Ah!

-Yo. -Ooh!

Who the fuck told this nigga to cut my music off?

Why the fuck you hit him? He don't even bang!

He's a church kid.

Everybody calm the fuck down. Damn.

Why the fuck you always tripping, cuz?

-'Cause I be tripping, cuz. -Oh, blood!

Trig done bombed on Teddy Ruxpin. We got a squabble.

Shut up, nigga. You ain't even supposed to be over here.

What, nigga?

Mar!

Well, if it ain't my nigga J. Loco out the gates.

-When you get out, cuz? -Mar, get the fuck over here.

Me and this man held it down at 4800. What up, homie?

For real.

You straight?

How did you know we was here?

Shit, Wanda told me.

Cuz, what the fuck happened to your lip?

Nigga, I asked you…

Hey, which one of you mark-ass niggas hit my brother, cuz?

Me, nigga.

Nigga, OG tell you he don't bang?

I don't give a fuck what that nigga said, nigga.

-Nigga, I need that. -What's happening, nigga?

Hey, hey, hey, hey!

We ain't gonna be in here fighting like no animals!

Let's do it right. No rat packs.

Back room. Just like county, nigga.

Step harder, nigga.

James.

-Y'all have to wake your homie up! -Oh, shit. Look at that fool.

-James. -Your homie back there asleep!

-Y'all should go pick him up, nigga. -James.

Y'all niggas acting like you don't know who the fuck I am!

Which one of you mark-ass niggas want next?

One time!

Go to your hands, boys!

Stop moving, stop moving. Hands on the floor.

Fuck out of the way!

-Stay the fuck down! -Do not fucking move!

Just stay cool. Stay cool.

Fuckin' scum. Against the wall! Let's go.

Keep moving.

Stay the fuck off me!

-Stay cool. -You two, down on the ground!

Now!

Hey, once we get to booking, they gonna ask you about gang affiliation…

-Who's this? -Hey! We got a problem? I said…

They gonna ask about gang affiliation. Hey, look at me. Look at me.

Just tell them that you don't bang.

They're gonna see you ain't in the system.

Gun.

Hey, look at me. We good. Don't worry about that.

Hey, once you get to processing,

there's gonna be niggas hitting you up. Fuck!

Hey, if them niggas ask you where you from, you tell them my name.

You hear me? Lamar, you tell them niggas my name.

Hey, Lamar, do you hear me?

Hey, I love you, bro. You tell 'em my fucking name!

Fuck!

They took your shoes, cuz?

Hey, you gave them my name, like I said?

They said you'd understand.

They ain't put their hands on you, then I do.

But you know that shit shouldn't happen, right?

I should've been there from the get.

What's gonna happen when we get home?

Oh, we for sure getting kicked out, cuz.

Hey, hey. I've been with… Look, I've been through it before.

All right? I'm gonna be with you. Come on.

-Is this your boys? -Yeah.

I appreciate you jumping in so quick.

It's my pleasure. Pretty much live here anyways.

Fellas.

Hey, we gonna get… You can get them gun charges fixed?

And the gang enhancements.

The deputy DA, she's coming over to my house tonight

to talk shop and watch the Laker game.

That rookie Divac,

he's gonna bring us back to being champions.

Good luck, fellas.

-Art cool? -That was a gang sweep.

And they got Detail on an open warrant, so you know how that shit go.

Fuck.

I'ma take y'all to the crib.

All right, homie.

Maybe we could wait till tomorrow.

Come on, cuz, let's just get it over with.

Look, trust me. All right, Mar, he already know.

Come on, man.

And plus, when I came to get you last night,

he saw me walking out with my pistol.

I don't know, he was calm.

I ain't never seen him like that before.

Anyways, it should be quick.

Probably already got our bags packed and shit.

You did good, James.

Being there for your brother.

I was unfair to shut you down at the Wash House.

-Meaning what? -You deserve the business when I retire.

And that day is coming soon.

Right now, it's got to be you and him.

You understand that you're the reason

for whatever happened to your brother last night, right?

Right?

Whoa. You are so much like your mother.

What does that mean, though?

You're my father, man, basically.

When was the last time we had a real conversation?

If I'm so much like her, why can't we just talk about what actually...

Hey, hey, hey. Lamar. Relax, cuz.

Mama G thinks I made y'all sleep in the car

for not checking in, so we have a reprieve.

All right? Go and get cleaned up.

Proud of you, James.

Come on, cuz.

♪ Gotta keep a gun when you raised in violence ♪

♪ Ghettoburg, hemmed up Cuffed on the curb ♪

♪ On our block Where we protect and serve ♪

♪ Packin' a cell Young, wild as hell ♪

♪ Back to the hood I got hope to sell, fool ♪

-♪ Ain't nobody ♪ -♪ On my level ♪

-♪ Ain't nobody ♪ -♪ Puttin' on for the ghetto ♪

♪ Ain't nobody… ♪

Yeah.

Remember last summer,

we were sitting up listening to Talking Book,

and you were like,

"I wonder what it's like to know someone who makes music like that"?

That's how I feel now.

Like, I'm proud to know the person who made this shit.

Being at those apartments.

Artillery's lyrics. I could see it.

Then now you understand where it comes from.

You know, we still got time to get this to Jenny.

I want her to at least hear it before she picks the single.

What?

I'm sorry.

They've already gone to radio with "Rydah."

But having a song on the radio is a win for you.

It was you.

You told DG where the masters were.

What? No.

You knew where I had them, Wanda.

Lamar, it's his studio.

Someone who works there must have told him.

Lamar!

Lamar!

Lamar!