All language subtitles for Urban Justice (2007)

23.976 English from Closed Caption
sync � 21.03.2020

Urban Justice (2007)
aka Renegade Justice

Can't you call in sick... And tell 'em
you have a doctor's appointment?

And I'll make it worth your while.

You do make it hard.

Received a call yesterday,

and got a lead on some
bookie joints opening up.

Should be a pretty dull day.
So all right.

I'll be home by 6.

- You are gonna make me late.
- I am not. I gotta go.

- Oh, no. Please?
- Get off.

- I gotta go. Mm, no. Come on.
- No. I don't want you... please?

- Got to.
- No.

Oh, yeah.

You're beautiful.

Good morning, Los Angeles.
It's 6:30 A.M.

The temperature is
a cool 49 degrees.

The traffic is already starting
to become heavy.

A shootout took place in
South Compton late last night,

leaving a 26-year-old
male dead.

In a statement issued
by the police department,

the shooting has been blamed
on the violence

between two rival gangs,

Hyde Park
and the East Side Gangsters,

who have been the focus of
the mayor's commitment.

- Come on.
- Hey, man. Wha...? What's up, man?

Shit.

- Shut up. Stay still.
- I ain't did nothing.

Stay right there. Come on.
Down!

Get down.
Get on the car.

Shut up. Wait here.
What the fuck?

All right.

Let's get out of here.

Hey, check it out.

Shit.

All right, let's go.

Get in the car.

Brown and Schrulner.

I always had my suspicions.

But who are you?

Come on.

Hello?

What, now?

This better be important.

I'll be there in 20.

- Damn it.
- What's wrong?

I gotta go meet somebody.

- Be less than an hour. I promise.
- But dinner's almost ready.

I know, I know.
I'll make it quick.

Promise. I guess I'll keep
a plate warm for you then.

Thanks.

Come on, Gary. It's cold.

Linda's gonna have my ass.

� Dashing the weapons... �

Hello.
� Close all the doors �

Hello?
� When the party get crashing �

� World war III
don't be playing with me... �

� Tried to hit you up
with the 9, mother �

� Drop this �
� this year we taking �

� Nickels and dimes mother �

� Drop it �
� show blood �

� If you wanna survive �

� All you seein' through
the window is a plastic eye �

� Layin' in the back
while I touch the sky �

� If a girl put a quarter in
I let her ride �

� Just clownin', all beats
with the gangsta war �

� Not equipped with blood
you ain't battle-sworn �

� Just a bailed mc
outlined in chalk �

� And he's bulletproof �

� Makin' sure the bullets
fall off... �

Ready!

Aim! Fire!

Ready.

Aim. Fire.

Ready. Aim. Fire.

Max Ballister is a hero.

He gave his life
in the line of duty

with courage and conviction.

His loss will forever

be remembered by everyone.

Simon, the police say
it was a random gang shooting.

They may never know who did it.

I won't accept that option, Simon.

Someone murdered Max.

Someone shot him in cold blood.

If you come by the house,
I have copies of

all the police reports
they would release to me.

Along with Max's personal items.

- Yo.
- Hello.

How you doin'?
Yeah, that's how we do it.

- Can I help you?
- Sign says room for rent.

I have a few apartments
available upstairs.

Are you sure this is the kind
of place you're looking for?

- Can I see the room?
- Yeah.

Follow me.

So they're not exactly
the Four Seasons.

But they're cheap,
and they rent by the week.

It comes furnished.

- Change your mind?
- No, it's perfect. All right.

Well, I'm gonna need
the first week in advance.

Yeah, that's no problem.

Cop was killed not far
from here the other day.

You know anything about that?

Like I said, this isn't
the best neighborhood.

- In fact, it's getting worse by the week.
- Yeah.

- That cop was my son.
- Oh, I'm s... I'm sorry.

- How much you say I owe you?
- One twenty-five.

- By the way, I'm Simon Ballister.
- I'm Alice Park.

- Nice to meet you.
- You too.

- Can I help you?
- This is my 'hood, pendejo.

- You don't fuckin' belong here.
- Really?

Well, listen, I got some
personal stuff going on

that makes me
have to be here, so...

Why don't you take your lively,
chubby ass and get the fuck off my car?

- It's my fucking 'hood.
- I'm starting to get scared.

Come on, rob me.

Kung fu this, motherfucker.

Tell every motherfucker on the street
they're not safe till I find

the motherfucker who killed my son.

You understand me?

Tell them.
Tell them what I said.

Gonna get that guy.

"Detective Frank Shaw"
"555-6407"

- How can I help you?
- I'm Simon Ballister, Max's father.

He was murdered last week,
and, uh, I'd like to speak

with the officer in charge
of the investigation.

I'm sorry. Max was a good man.

Highly respected officer
in this department.

Detective Shaw is heading up his case.
I'll let him know you're here.

Simon Ballister, Max's father,
here to see you.

Thank you. Send him in.

- Right back this way, Mr. Ballister.
- Thank you.

I know. I know. Yeah.
That's what he told him.

Hello, Mr. Ballister.
I'm detective Shaw. Nice to meet you.

Nice to meet you. Gentlemen?
A little privacy, please? Yeah.

Please, uh, have a seat.

Well, I didn't mean to
bother you or anything,

but I, uh... Just wanna see
if there's any updates, you know.

Intel...
On my son's case.

- As I explained to your wife...
- You mean my ex-wife.

Ex-wife. The chances of finding
your son's killer are slim to none.

Believe me, he was one of ours,
and we don't take that lightly,

but it looks like it was
a random gang shooting.

Yeah, it's kind of, um... Disappointing
to see that kind of confidence from...

My son's own team, you know?

I understand. Unfortunately,
the numbers work against us.

Last year, we had 487 homicides,
almost half of which were gang-related.

Good news is, that's down 6 percent
from the year before.

Does that mean you have...
No evidence whatsoever?

He was found in the street
next to his car. A random shooting.

Killer probably never even
stepped out of the car.

All we do have is the bullet,
which we recovered from him.

- What caliber was that?
- Forty.

Mr. Ballister,
he was a well-respected officer.

We were all very fond of him.

Um... Listen...

Uh, would you mind if I give you
a call now and again? Uh...

Not at all.
Here's my card.

Did you ever get the chance
to meet my son?

No, uh... Wish I had. Unfortunately,
our paths never crossed.

He worked vice
out of headquarters,

and I've been assigned here
since I pinned on a badge.

- Here you go, sir. Thank you.
- Thank you. Pleasure meeting you.

Detective Shaw.
Hello?

- Shit. Holy fuck, man. Shit, man.
- What's up, man?

Man, I... I came here looking
for you, man. That's it.

- You lookin' for me?
- Yeah, man.

I ain't trying to rob no one, man.
Come on, man.

For real, man. I heard you
was asking some questions, man.

That's about it, man.

Come here.
Sit down.

Man.

So...

- What's your name?
- Gary, man. Gary Morrison.

What are you doing here?

I just came here to ask you
a couple questions, man.

I... I heard you was asking
about, um, Max. Max Ballister.

Did you know my son?

I mean, I ran numbers.
Max, he worked vice, so...

Mm-hm.

You know, times came, I...
I helped him out with a couple...

Tips on a few local bookie joints in
the area, and things like that, man.

I got you. So you're a snitch.

Man, that's a rude term, man.
I was a CI, all right?

- I was a confidential informant.
- In other words... You're a snitch.

- You a cop too?
- Not exactly.

You Simon.

See, Max... yeah, man.
Max, he mentioned you a couple times.

Hey, look, man, I don't know you
that well, man...

But the East Side Gangsters...
They run this neighborhood.

- Is that right?
- I mean, you stick around, like..

Like...
They'll probably kill you.

Before all them
bad things happen to me,

maybe you could tell me
where they are.

They stay over there
in the projects on Florence.

On Florence? It's a closed-down
construction site now, but...

That's where Max was shot, man.

Like I said, it ain't a good idea
for you to go nowhere near there, man.

I really don't care
what their business is.

I just want the motherfucker
that killed my son.

I... phew. I understand, man.

Like I said, Max, he was
a good guy, man.

I mean...
I don't know. I gots to go, man.

Hey, man, look,
I'm sorry about Max, man.

Yeah, me too.

So, what are you thinking?

- It's Gary.
- Gary doesn't have the balls.

Think about it.

Now, his brother Isaiah
is trying to work his way up.

Killing Max could have
been his ticket.

- Let's take him down then.
- Timing's not right.

We'll take him down
when we take down Armand.

Knock, knock, nigger.

What the fuck's your bitch ass
doin' off in here?

Looks like your luck
just ran the fuck out.

You know what, man?
Luck is a funny motherfucking thing.

Why's that?

Luck can change in the blink
of a motherfucking eye.

You're a badass white boy, huh?

Think you bad, huh?

Come on, motherfucker. You...

Now, motherfucker, you wanna
tell me who killed my son?

- Man, I don't know shit.
- You don't know shit, huh?

- Who killed my son?
- Nigga, fuck you.

I'm gonna be doing the fucking now.

- Man, fuck y'all.
- What did you say?

Fuck you. I don't know shit.

Ah! Shit, man! In my fucking ear.

Oh! Aw! Fuck.

- I'm gonna smoke your ass, you bitch.
- I'm gonna ask you one more time.

Hey. All right, all right, look.

I'll get you some knowledge,
all right?

- Shot my fucking ear off.
- Who killed my son?!

- It wasn't who you think it is, all right?
- It ain't who I think? What's that mean?

- Nigga, it wasn't us.
- Oh, shit. You motherfucker.

I'm gonna get your ass.
Bitch, you're dead, bitch.

I got nothing but time for you,
motherfucker. Don't forget that.

Shot my fucking ear.

Oh, fuck.

I'm gonna get your fucking ass.

Oh, shit.

Benny, what's your problem?

Armand...
Why are we playing these games?

Well, Benny, I like games.

I've got a game we can play.

It's got one question..
Why are you a snitch?

- No. I'm not a snitch.
- That ain't what I heard.

You should be workin' for CNN,
the way you put my business

out on the streets.

Armand...

Look at what I gave you.

There's a major deal going down.

And I risked my life to bring you this
information, because I respect you.

Because I wanna do business with you.

I wanna do
business with you too, Benny.

- Let me cut this check for you.
- Thank you.

Should know nigga's check's
gonna bounce.

What the fuck are you doing?

Oh, my bad.
I didn't like the way he smelled.

All right, look.

I've got most of the information
on the deal he was brokering.

- I'll keep you informed.
- Oh, the fuck you will.

You let me know when and where,
me and my boys will be there.

Like I said...
I will keep you informed.

What the hell happened to you two?

Man, some big-ass white boy
jumped us. A white boy.

- What?
- Nigga, are you deaf?

Ye... yeah, man. That nigga is.

Look, some big-ass white boy,

as in Paul Bunyan motherfucker,
came out of nowhere up in the spot,

did some kung fu shit
on my little homey and me,

grabbed that nigga's gun
and shot his ear off.

- Nigga, please.
- What?

Oh, h... hey. Take it easy, all right?
Just put the gun down. Relax.

Where's Maurice and Anthony?

Man, them niggas gone, man.
He smoked both them fools.

- One dude?
- Yeah.

One dude smoked
two of my motherfuckers?

What are y'all, bitches?
Do I have to buy y'all dresses?

You niggas want miniskirts? Tutus?

Dip your motherfucking ass in hot olive
oil, put you in roller-skates, bitch?

Dude said his name was, like...
"Balister,"

- ..or "Ballister," or some shit...
- Ballister did this to you?

Yeah, that's that nigga, right.
Yeah, Ballister.

Fuck. That's the guy
I was telling you about.

So you knew this motherfucker was
gonna do some crazy shit like this?

I got a lot of money
on this deal... Partner.

Ain't got time for this bullshit.

- Clean that motherfucker up.
- Come on, man.

Yeah, I can see what
you're thinkin', Benny.

You had deceit on your mind.

Think you're gonna take
a brother down.

Remember Scarface, motherfucker?

"Look at you now.
Look at you now, you fuck."

So it must feel good
to be able to put to use

all those wonderful lessons
you learned in the military, huh?

Yeah, well, uh... I really
wasn't in the military.

You're not a salesman, Simon.

And you're not a cop. Someone
taught you to fight like that.

No, no, no. All the fighting stuff,
I got that off of home videos.

Whatever.

- Listen, could I ask you a question?
- Shoot.

Those bangers that were here the other
day, what gang are they with?

Hyde Park.
They're Chivo's boys.

You think Chivo had something
to do with your son's murder?

I'll let you know.

- Hello.
- Uh, hello. This is Simon.

Simon? Yeah....

Max spoke very fondly
about you.

Um, and I saw you at the funeral.

I wanted to come over
and pay my condolences,

but, uh... I just wasn't quite
in the mood. Sorry.

I understand.

I wanted to see if the police
had been by to interview you,

and, uh... Whether or not they
returned any of Max's property, or...

They were more interested
in any files or paperwork

that he might have brought home.

Did, uh, Max have any, uh...?

Anything on a computer,
by any chance?

Yeah, but... police took it.

Well, listen, I just want you
to know one thing.

I... I, uh...
I will find who did this to my son.

And, um...

If you need anything,
you call me, you hear?

All right, babe.

- Man, shoot it.
- Defense.

Come on, man, don't
let 'em score again.

Oh!

Man.
Pass the ball, man.

Make some shots, maybe I could dish it
to you. You playing with no D on it.

Hoggin'. They done got three points, man.
It's 9-7. You wanna win this or what?

- You crazy?
- We need to talk.

Look around you, fool.
See all those eyes on us?

Any of 'em see me get in
that car, man, I'm dead. You feel me?

Well, look. I'll just pretend
like I'm a policeman. Heh. You know.

You ain't no cop,
that's for sure, man.

Heard what happened to them boys.

News in the 'hood travels fast,
don't it now?

Hm.

Look, man, I need your help.

- What's up, partner?
- It's good, homes.

What kind of help?

I need you to help me
find who killed my son.

Ain't no way nobody ever
gonna find his killer, man.

That's for damn sure.
You have to tell me what you know.

What you gonna do
if you find the shooter, huh?

I'm gonna kill him.

I don't care who ordered the hit.

I don't care whose business is what.

I just wanna know who killed my son.

- It's not looking good for me, man.
- Get in the car.

All right, showtime, what do you know?

Man, look, man, there's this Mexican...
Called El Chivo, all right?

- "The goat?"
- Yeah.

He runs the Hyde Park Gang.

Them motherfuckers there.

You think this guy
might have pulled the trigger?

Maybe.

I mean... Maybe he had
somebody pull a drive-by.

Well, like I said,
I don't really care...

About who ordered it or anything.

I just want the shooter.

Well, if it came from Chivo,
he would know who did it.

You have any idea why
he might want my son dead?

Max, man... Look, he...
he hit them bookie joints hard, man.

Chivo, he runs most of 'em.
You know how it is, man.

You start fucking with a man's
money, you could end up dead.

Where can I find this guy?

He got a club on Slauson
called, um, Anodyne, all right?

He's there most nights.

All right. You did good, man.

I'll see you soon, you hear?
Thank you.

Yeah, man. Right.

Hey, Gary.

Huh?

This yours?

What the fuck is he doing?

Don't worry about it, dude.
Look like he talkin' to some cop.

Talking to a cop?
Man, you better check this, man.

Dude, that's my little brother,
all right?

I'll handle that shit.
All right.

Don't fucking worry
about it, all right?

Hey, Isaiah. What up, man?

- The fuck was that about?
- Nothin'.

Don't fuckin' lie to me.
Who is he?

- That cop's old, man.
- You tell him anything?

Just where to find Chivo and them.

- You believe this shit, yo?
- Man, does a chicken have lips?

Like I give a fuck. Come on, man.
All right, yo. Listen.

You stay the fuck away from him.
You feel me?

- He came lookin' for me.
- I don't give a fuck.

If I see you with him again,
I'm gonna whup your ass, all right?

All right? All right, man.
Yo, tell Moms I won't be home tonight.

Where you gonna be? Don't worry
about it. Just tell her, all right?

- Fine.
- I'm out, yo. All right.

Excuse me. Could I talk to you for a
second? Why don't you get out of here?

You know, I, um...
I wanna see Chivo.

You know, the problem is,
this is a private club.

Your name's not on the list.

So why don't you just
get the fuck out of here?

You look like a smart guy.
I... I tell you what I'm gonna do.

I'll give you 5 bucks
if you could let me in.

No?
How's that?

- I'll tell you what, tough guy.
- What?

If you can make it back down,
you and me, we've got a date.

- All right.
- Why don't you go on in?

� One, two
see me come through �

� Big pimpin', my... �

Hey, man. Private club.
Oh!

� Wants to move around clown �

� Now, what you talkin' �

� Me and my girl
we are fly every night �

� Me-o-my �

- Who the fuck...?
- Hey!

� They bring me good luck �

� And the good life �

� Good life �

I'm Simon Ballister...

- Max's father.
- Sorry to hear about your son.

I wanted to talk to you
for a minute, if I could.

Girls... I have to say,
I've found something,

a little more important than you
right now. I'll be back.

So you're the crazy vato that's been
beating the shit out of all my guys, huh?

Well, I've been tryin' to get
some answers, you know?

Yeah. Kind of becoming
a habit with you, ain't it?

I hope not.

Some folks say you might know
something about who killed my son.

Now, let me take a guess.

You heard that from some
myopic gangbangers, right?

That's right.

I thought so.

Why would I wanna kill Max?
Was a good cop.

We were a lot alike.
Both pillars of the community.

We both helped our people...
Our own way.

Well, you know...

Seems like maybe he took down
a few of your joints.

So what? This is the barrio.

Takes down one of my joints
today, it's back up tomorrow.

And besides... We all know what kind
of heat a dead cop brings.

No. You ever heard of a gang
called the East Side Gangsters?

Heard it came from them.

It sounds like maybe you're asking me
to take out your competition.

I am.

East Side Gangsters been tryin'
to cut into my territory for years.

Especially that... Armand Tucker.

Yeah. I want you to take 'em down.

But that doesn't mean
what I'm telling you isn't true.

I liked your son.

I swear on my dead
mother's grave...

They did it.

You know... I look at you...

I see a man like me.

A bad man... With good intentions.

I believe you.

Mami. Tequila.

- Anything else?
- Later.

Here's to my son, and findin'
the motherfucker who killed him.

Para tu hijo.

Tough guy.

See, your problem is...

- Excuse me. I really, need to talk...
- Get the fuck out of here.

You're doin' that to my homeboy.
The problem is, I ain't him... Ah!

You mean motherfuck...

I don't like the way you pick on
the little people, you know?

- Oh, man.
- Come here.

- Oh, man.
- Come on. Oh, God, no.

- Thank you.
- You busted my hand. Thanks so much.

- Bottle of Tequila for you.
- Thank you. Keep yourself warm.

- My name's J.D.
- Sandwich. Nice to meet you.

- Thank you, man.
- All right.

- Y'all be good.
- I know it, man.

- Come... come back and see me sometime.
- I will.

Yeah, I think we got him.

I want a 24-hour tail
on him from now on.

Simon, I just wanted you to know,
for whatever it's worth,

that I really respect you for how
you've handled this whole situation.

You and Max must have been
really close.

You know, when time passes on, you
kind of get to thinking a little bit.

Seems like...
Every day that goes by...

You kind of can't
get used to the fact that...

Somebody that close
to you is gone.

You always think, "hey, man,
I gotta call my son." Or...

"I'm going to see him soon,"
or something.

And then you kind of remember...

The unthinkable...
Has actually happened.

Aim.

Fire!

There's really
no greater sorrow than...

When a man's own child

passes before he does.

And I do have regrets, because...

When he was a child, I really didn't..
Spend much time with him.

But when he got older...

I really kind of feel like
I got to make it up.

You could be away
from somebody for 10 years...

Knock on the door, walk through that
door, and it's like you never left.

That's close, and, uh...

That's how he and I were, you know?

That close.

That's him right there, yo.

But why the fuck does Armand
want this nigga dead, anyway?

Doesn't matter.
Let's smoke this fool.

We do this, and we in.

Bread, bitches... And cocaine.

- You need to stop that snortin' shit.
- Man, nigga, fuck you.

- Let's mark this fool.
- Don't fuck up my car.

Say good night, motherfucker.

Goddamn! I can't believe you missed!

- Back this motherfucker up! Go!
- Goddamn, motherfucker! God... shit!

- Motherfucker...
- We gotta get out of L.A.

If you didn't have a
motherfucking slow-ass hearse...

you keep talking about my car,
you're gonna catch a bus.

Here, look. We here.

Come on.

Get the tire. Something! Shit!

Fuck!

Look at your dumb ass,
missing and shit. God...

- Come on, come on!
- I will get you closer.

- You shoot the fucking tires out.
- Drive my motherfucking car.

Just shoot the motherfucking
tires out this time. Watch me.

Oh, shit. Jack it up, bitch!
Jack it up!

Come on. Come on.
Buck again. Buck again.

Unload on his ass.

What the fuck?
Nice driving, motherfucker.

It ain't me. This motherfucker's
all over the road.

How the fuck is it the car's fault?

- How come it ain't you?
- Fuck!

- God. Where the fuck is he going?
- Just drive my motherfucking car.

Yeah.

I can't see shit.

- I see him.
- Fuck!

Man, I swear, if somethin' fall out
from under this, it's your ass.

Hang on, hang on.

I'll show you
how to smoke this, motherfucker.

Here we go, we got his ass now.
We got him now. Right here.

- Come on. Come on.
- Shit.

This motherfucker's slippery as hell.
Closer. Okay, I'm gonna get closer.

- Come on.
- You got him. You got him.

Come on up.

What the fuck?

- This motherfucker is crazy as hell.
- Ram his ass.

Go! Damn!

What the fuck? Oh, shit.

Who sent you?

Fuck you.

That's the wrong answer.

I'm gonna ask you one more time.
Who sent you?

Armand, man.

Father killed.
Brother: Isaiah morrison.

Mother: Carla morrison.

Isaiah, mostly misdemeanors,
no felonies.

Suspicion of burglary,
suspicion of armed robbery,

suspicion of destruction
of property.

Known gang affiliations:
East Side Gangsters.

East Side Gangsters, suspected
in involvement of over 30 killings

in the past year.

Racketeering,
drug running, murder.

Armand Tucker...

No convictions.

- Yeah?
- Yeah. Simon Ballister.

- Hi.
- What do you want?

Listen, I need that package
right away.

All right, where are you?

It's... 1001 north central.

- L.A.?
- That's right.

You know, the only part they didn't
have in Scarface Was him fucking.

Tweedledee and tweedle-dumbass.
Hold on, man. Hold on.

Say hello to my little friend.
Understand me?

He'd just hold a gun to
the bitch. Be like... Suck it.

Armand? Let you snort some cocaine off
this motherfucker... Excuse me, boss?

Motherfucker! Uh... can't you see
I'm doing something?

- Excuse me, boss, uh...
- Why the fuck you gonna interrupt me?

Sorry, boss. Why don't you females
go on and go upstairs...

- Reggie B. and Isaiah...
- Nigga, hold up.

All right, all right. Hey, why don't
you ladies go back to the room,

get it cracking without me,
you understand me? Mm-hm.

I'll be in, in a minute.

And, uh, feel free to, uh...
try them little things out.

You know what I'm saying?
I got some toys back there.

Yeah, it's Christmas.
Mm.

Ah.

- You like that, huh?
- Hell, yeah.

You could have shit like that on
the regular if you handle your business.

I'm disappointed in both of y'all.
Especially you, Isaiah.

You hold your bitch ass up
right there, partner.

Take that motherfucking rag
off around your bitch-ass neck.

You ain't reppin' shit.

Get that the fuck off.

Look at the ground.

Look at the floor. Don't
even look at me, nigga.

Boy, I put trust in you.
I put trust in you, boy.

I put trust in you.
But you wanna fuck up.

You know I don't ask people
for many things, man.

Most of what I accomplish...
I accomplish myself.

Matter of fact, everything I accomplish,
I accomplish my damn self,

'cause I ain't gonna never
snitch on me, nigga.

Now, I asked you to do this
one thing to prove yourself,

and you dropped the ball, coz.

- Yo, man, this Simon...
- Silence, nigga.

Look, I know this motherfucker tough.

But that's why I gave you this assignment.
It's a chance for you to prove yourself.

Now, if you prove yourself,
we got a little thing called trust.

Trust go a long way
in this organization.

You understand me?

- You understand me?
- Yes, sir. Good.

'Cause if you don't
do this correctly, partner...

We ain't friends.
Matter of fact, we enemies.

You, your family...
Your mama,

that pregnant bitch you got
around the corner, nigga.

Yeah.
You wanna see that child, nigga?

Because I don't give a fuck
about the little motherfucker.

Now, why don't you do yourself
a motherfucking favor

and go kill that son of a bitch?

Keep your head up, coz.

And this time, make sure
he lay down and stay there.

They don't make niggas
like they used to.

These little motherfuckers running
around here krump dancing and shit.

One motherfuckin' white boy.

How the fuck my whole motherfuckin'
clique bruised the fuck up?

What kind of steroids this
motherfucker on? This my shit here.

He wanna run his little white ass
around here like he renegade.

Matter of fact, hey, you bitches,
get your ass up out of here!

You skeleton ass, motherfucking
drug-addict ho's snorting up my shit.

The fuck out my goddamned house!

Killed a bitch in a week. Goddamn it.

- Morning.
- Morning.

- Special delivery for Simon Ballister.
- Upstairs. Apartment A.

- Great. Thank you.
- No problem.

You ain't gonna score again.
I'm telling you.

Telling you, you ain't gonna score.
Ain't. I ain't gonna let you.

I ain't gonna let you.

Can't let you score.
Can't let you score.

Oh!

Finally got the ball.
You can't guard me.

I'm gonna pop that shit right here.

You don't even know when
I'm coming, do you? Do you?

Patience, baby.

Yo, I quit, man.
You're good, y'all. I'll get out.

I'm tired.
You be playin' too much defense.

Play Isaiah.

Bet he won't be doin' all that then.

Good game, though.
Good game.

Take care.

They started it.

Check out that little guy
over here.

Got the Lone Ranger over here.

Shit.

Let's go, guys.
Let's have a little fun. Let's go.

- Take cover!
- Come on, nigger. Run, boy! Run!

Come on!

Run his fucking ass down!
Come on!

You're goin' nowhere!

Get him! Get him!

Shit.

Whoa.

Yeah. Yeah.

Hey, hey. Where you going, nigger?

Alone out here in the 'hood?

Maybe me and my boys will give you
a little bit of hospitality, huh?

You ain't goin' nowhere, man.

- He's scared.
- We'll have a lot of fun with you.

- What's in your bag?
- We'll work you over real good.

Were you lost?

Keep moving, white boy!

You stupid motherfucker.

- Didn't you hear me, white boy?
- Got your back, brother.

Who are you calling
white boy, motherf...?

Hey!

Bad motherfucker.

Gary! Let's go!

Been an accident at Bellevue.
We need an ambulance.

Don't make fun of my ride.
It's a rental.

Damn. Hope you got insurance.

Man, that was some crazy shit.
Fuck you learn that shit, man?

Yo, I bet he never had a ass-whupping
like that before. Shit.

- Can I ask you something?
- Anything, man.

Uh-huh. Why'd you lie to me
about Chivo?

What you talkin' about? 'Cause
I think you're trying to play me.

Look, fool, I ain't
never said he did it, man.

I just told you what
the word on the street was.

Chivo didn't have nothing
to do with Max.

- What you asked him or something?
- That's right. I asked him.

What, he told you he didn't do
it, and you believed him?

That's right.
Oh, man.

- And you knew he wasn't lying?
- That's right.

- But I am? That's right.
- Man, fuck you, man. I'm leavin' man.

Would you like me to stop the car
first, so you don't land on your head?

Shit.

How's your brother?

Did he have a little accident
last night?

How the fuck
you know about that, man?

Because I caused the accident, see.
He tried to ambush me last night.

Brother with the East Side boys?
Is that it? Huh?

Who's Armand Tucker?

Hey, um...
Did your brother kill my son?

Hm?

You ain't got nothin' to say?

All right.

You protecting your brother?

I'm leaving, man.

Hey, Gary.

My backpack, man.

� I'm a-hit you
with artillery �

There's a lot of rocks here,
so it's gonna cost...

- Yo.
- Hey, Isaiah.

Hey, you gonna pick me up, man?

- Dude, you got my money.
- You all right? What happened?

Hey, just some
skinheads trippin', man.

All right. I'll be there
as soon as I can, all right?

I'm takin' care of
some business for Armand.

Yo, man.
Hey. You gotta stop that shit, dog.

- What?
- No, no, no. I was talkin' to Reggie.

Stupid-ass motherfucker.
Yo, man. Let's go, dog.

Look, man, I really need
to speak to you, man, for real.

I got some shit to run by you.

Hey, I'm on my way, all right?
Go on.

You and your brother head back,
keep an eye on my place.

Everybody else, remember,
this is for big bucks. No fuckups.

All right, gentlemen,
here we go.

Keep your voice down.

Gentlemen, take it up front.

Y'all have my goods, huh?

It's all ready.

What else did you get? Time to swap.
All right.

Two hundred birds, baby.

- All right.
- Yeah. You counted it? Yeah.

- You say it's good?
- Got the car.

- All right, where the money at?
- What's up? Right here, baby.

We should just rush
these motherfuckers.

The deal was you do
what I say, remember?

Don't double-cross me, motherfucker.

I'm the one that put you
on to these fools.

Just sit back and watch.

Who knows? You might
just learn something.

Handle your business, partner.

- It's all there.
- Looking kind of light, though.

- It's all there.
- Just count the stuff.

Let's make it happen.

If you don't believe it,
just count it. Count it, man.

Yeah, it is. Money's yours?

- Shred 'em.
- Look at the bottom.

We good, man. We good.

- Dope is ours, money's yours.
- Take the shot.

Money's yours. Let's do it.

Let's do it.

Oh. Motherfucker set us up!

Well...?

Nice classroom.

- Rasheed, get the car.
- Let's go.

Nice shot, pal. Bring it on down.

Where are we?

It's all here. What do you got?

- Looks like about 200 keys.
- About, uh... uh, 3 million cash.

Jack, take them wheels right there.

You two load up in that one.
Follow me.

- Okay, gentlemen, quick.
- Let's go.

Let's move. Now, now, now.

Meet you out front, shorter.
Let's go. Move it.

Let's move it.
Let's go.

- Merry fucking Christmas.
- Man, fuck Santa Claus.

He never got me shit.
That's why I sell dope.

All right, listen up.
Now, take that yeyo down below.

After you done with that,
take this SUV to the chop shop,

- ..put it in pieces and crush it.
- Keep your eyes open.

Can't believe we
pulled this shit off.

Let's not forget you couldn't
have done it without us.

Now that money doesn't move
until we broker the dope.

Man, you know what your problem is?
You worry too much.

Once we ship this shit east, man,
we all gonna get paid.

All right. I'm posting men,

make sure nothing comes
and goes unless we know.

Good looking out.
Five million in cocaine and cash.

Got any idea how much
money we could make,

we step on it two or three times?

- Yeah, I do.
- I'm talking helicopter, Bill Gates.

- Helicopter?
- I always wanted one, man. You know?

That way I can get a bird's-eye view
of my territory, you know?

I can watch the little soldiers
out there slanging and banging.

In case a little
motherfucker fuck up,

I can come in, you know,
Vietnam-Rambo style.

Right out the side of that bitch.
Blip, blip, blip, blip, blip.

Drop, bitch!
Yeah.

- Yeah. You've been to Nam?
- Been to Nam? You been to Compton?

Vietnam ain't got shit
on the motherfuckin' CPT, coz.

Ballister's making you look
bad, Armand. What's it gonna take?

Plastic surgery. Don't worry about it.
We got a special delivery for his ass.

Yeah, you'd better.

It's that nigger right there.
Yo, call.

Hey. Armand?
Yeah, he here. Just pulled up.

Hey, youngster. There's some
real shit gonna go on here.

Keep your mouth shut, okay?

- All right?
- All right.

There has been so much
going on around here, Simon.

You have to give me something.

Yeah, man. Make it happen, man.
Going up there and do this thing.

- We got your ass now, motherfucker.
- Hey, coz.

Get strapped up, baby.

Hey, man.
We gotta make it happen, man.

Hm.

You know you did
the right thing, right?

Yes, sir.

Let's show you how to
put work in, partner.

Get over there right now.
Get down. We got company.

- Who's out there?
- East Side Gang.

- Oh, God. What are we gonna do?
- Follow me and stay low. Okay.

Get down.

Go to the back, go to the back!

Get up.

Oh, shit, man!

Watch out!

Superman.

Have some of this kryptonite.

Stay down. Stay down. Okay.

Oh.
Okay. I gotta do this.

Oh, Jesus.

You can do this.
Okay. Okay, okay.

Oh.

That motherfucker. I had him, man.

Oh.

Come on!

You ever had some crazy nigga, bitch?!

Go get the motherfuckin' car.
Get the car!

You like dim sum, bitch?!

Well, you can have some...
and that bitch-ass white boy you with.

[Tires screech]

You and your punk-ass
motherfucker, you bitch.

Get in, get in.

Drive, motherfucker! Drive!

Simon? The cops are coming.

The cops are coming.
No. Look at me, Simon.

Stay with me, Simon.

- Wake up!
- Ready.

- Wake up, Simon!
- Aim. Fire!

I swear on
my dead mother's grave,

they did it.

Someone murdered Max.

It wasn't who you think it is,
all right?

Someone shot him in cold blood.

The chances of finding your
son's killer are slim to none.

Please tell me who.

Wake up, Simon.
Wake up, Simon.

Wake up, Simon.

No, Simon, let go!
That's my cousin, Winston.

Simon. Simon, stop!
That's my cousin. Let him go!

- Damn.
- I'm sorry, man.

You probably just reopened that wound.
Don't worry, man. I'm all right.

He's a nurse at USC Medical Center.

This is what he specializes in, Simon.

You're gonna need to take
it easy on those stitches, dog.

They're gonna hold. It's fine.

I have to take a look.
It's gonna get all infected.

I don't have time for that.
I've got to go.

Yo, man. What the fuck
you doin' in my house?

I'm lookin' for this.

Oh, lookie here. Look what I found.
Does this look familiar?

Gun don't look familiar.
I don't know where you got it.

- Did you kill my son with this?
- Um, nigga, we didn't do that shit.

You've been running around
fucking up everybody over this.

- No, man. We didn't do that hit, dog.
- You killed my son with this, didn't you?

And you just fucked up
by dropping your gun.

Yeah, smoke that nigger this time.
Don't miss.

You done fucked up
by being a dumb motherf...

What the fuck? Isaiah!

- Man. Look, man.
- What the fuck?

- You play me?
- Look, man.

What is this? Go ahead.
Play me some more, man.

Man, I didn't even do shit!
I ain't playing you!

Fuck, man. Isaiah.
He fine, he fine. He all right.

Who did my son?
You played me.

You lied to me about Chivo.
You sent me down the wrong road.

- What are you hiding?
- It was that dirty cop, Shaw..

..who killed Max, man.

When I was...
when I was hanging with Isaiah...

I overhead a conversation
between Shaw and Armand.

They was talking about how
they gonna eliminate Max, man.

Why?

I told you, man.
Max, he was a nice guy.

I tried to warn him, man.
I went there that night.

I was just too late.

Too fucking late.

Fuck. I saw it all happen.

Shaw just shot him.
Fucking shot him.

Wiped the gun down...
threw it over a fence.

I hopped that fence, man.
I grabbed the gun, I fucking ran.

Oh, fuck, I ran.
I ran!

I ran, man...
Till I didn't hear fucking shit.

No siren, nothing!

I sure enough wish you would have
told me that a long time ago.

I did not come to this town
to get played.

I wanted to come here...
And take care of one thing.

I'm gonna go see Shaw.

- I hope you're not lyin'.
- I'm sorry, man.

I'm sorry!

They were gonna kill my family!

Fucking family.

This is an H&K G36.

A bad machine gun, man.

- This is revenge.
- Yeah, that's what it is. Revenge.

What the fuck you think it is?

- Why?
- 'Cause they killed my son.

- Simon, this is never going to end.
- I don't really give a fuck what they do.

I just know what I'm gonna do.

- You're just as bad as they are.
- No. I'm a lot fuckin' worse.

- These guys for real?
- For sure.

Say, man,
I don't trust this motherfucker.

You gotta watch 'em.

These motherfuckers get out of line,
we gonna take 'em out, all right?

Yeah, it's about that time, nigga.

- What's up, coz?
- Armand.

What's up with the white boys?

Hey, man, what can I say?
Affirmative action, you know.

I wouldn't touch that
till I see some money.

Yeah.

Check that out, Shaw.

Yeah, we're good.

Just like I promised.

- You playin' me, motherfucker?
- Say what, nigger?

Who the fuck do you think
you dealing with?

- Nigga, what's your problem?
- What's my problem?

Tell you what
my motherfucking problem is.

That's fucking baking soda, bitch!

It is baking soda.

I should've known better than to deal
with some low-level West Coast hood.

Fuck the West Coast, nigga.

Get my money, and let's
get the fuck out of here.

Fuck's going on?

Somebody answer me.
What the fuck's going on?

- That motherfucker, Ballister.
- Fucking son of a bitch.

Ballister? What does that mean?

Hey, man. Why don't you do yourself
and me a favor, all right?

And shut the fuck up.

Now, I know my original plan
didn't go as planned...

But I'm a thinkin' man,
so I got a contingency.

Contingency plan?

Bitch, what the fuck
is your contingency plan?

Just let me look over
the paperwork, partner.

That's the motherfucking
contingency plan, partner.

- You motherfuckers.
- Hey, yeah, fuck you, bitch.

Look at your ho ass now.

Dressed like a motherfucking
tampon, nigga. What?

Problem with you New York niggers.

Running around here all shiny
and shit.

You dressed for the funeral you
about to have, motherfucker. So...

- Are you gonna kill me?
- Oh, I think it's obvious, partner.

Look around.

You gone and really fucked up, Armand,
by double-crossing me.

- Don't make this shit any worse.
- Uh, let's see, how could it get worse?

Uh... Look like your boys is dead.
Uh, uh. Yeah, you dead already.

You kill me...
My homeboys are gonna retaliate.

And believe me, motherfucker, they
won't stop until your ass is dead.

How the fuck a dead motherfucker

gonna retaliate,
you stupid son of a bitch?

Dead man can't walk.
You already dead, see?

You got killed by the L.A.P.D.
In a motherfucking shootout.

Process that, nigger. Can your
neuron fire that fast, motherfucker?

Yeah, that's what happened.
L.A.P.D. Shot your bitch ass.

Happens all the time.
Ain't that right, Shaw?

Yeah, that's right.

- I got the stairs. Take the front.
- Got it.

Fuck!

Come on, Ballister.

Come on out here, you big fuck.

Let's go. You and me, brother.

I'm talking to you!

Hey!

Come on, you stupid fuck.
Answer me.

Pussy. Come on, baby.

I'm waitin'.

You're gonna make me come to you, huh?

Where are you, sensei?

Obi-Wan.

You...

Fuck.

Fuck.

Kill this motherfucker.

Kill him!

Kill him.

Kill him.

I gotta hand it to you, partner.

You're quite the father. Come back
and run through the neighborhood.

Killing up all kind of
niggas and Mexicans.

Just a white boy on a rampage.

But we still got this
little dilemma now, do we not?

And I know you ain't dumb enough
to bring a fist to a gunfight.

I am.

You probably think I'm gonna kill you.

But you know what?
I came here for one thing.

And I did what I came here to do.

I got no beef with you.

That's a cool motherfucker.

Now that shit was gangsta.

� Ready to snatch your spot �

� better grab your glock �

� tonight's gonna be murder �

� ready with them hollow-shots
on your own block �

� tonight's gonna be murder �

� ready to snatch your spot
better grab your glock �

� tonight's gonna be murder �
� yeah �

� ready with them
hollow-shots �

� come on �
� on your own block �

� tonight's gonna be murder �

� grab a 40 here �

� and I'm sippin'
in the Porsche �

� right then I heard the sound
heard the metal pop �

� why the fuck
do I feel the pain? �

� visuals of the dead homeys
stuck in the brain �

� no escape from the gang
I was stuck in a maze �

� and they wonder why
everyone's full of the rage �

� friends, family down on us �

� how you think I'm gonna roll
without making a bust? �

� 'Cause the maids of lust
turning you into dust �

� payback with the chrome
hollow-point is a must �

� gotta make you bleed
fuck you and your seeds �

� watch you spit at your grave
while I roll up the weed �

� slow down
while I turn up speed �

� you bow down
while I raise up my sleeve �

� knock you down
then you step up to me �

� go ahead
and take your damn shots �

� last decision you'll make �

� 'cause I'm here to
take your damn spot �

� ready to snatch your spot
better grab your glock �

� tonight's gonna be murder �

� ready with them hollow-shots
on your own block �

� tonight's gonna be murder �

� ready to snatch your spot
better grab your glock �

� tonight's gonna be murder �

� ready with them hollow-shots
on your own block �

� tonight's gonna be murder �

� now, you know
you don't fuck them now �

� straight headed for a place
where it's spiritual �

� darkness fills your place
you're a fucking disgrace �

� say, son
I'll put a smack to your face �

� put you back in your place
bet your horse not to race �

� thirteen seconds
till the start of the chase �

� just keep up with the pace
repping the brown waste �

� the more that we hope
the more for the crime rate �

� soul and the mind state
don't give it the big cheat �

� bet a full five
let it off on your damn face �

� why the fuck
would you test me, dog? �

� now you're testin' the fire
from my game sawed-off �

� when the men fall off
being body-blown, Jester �

� wave your hand like a cross
play with me �

� and I hand you a loss �

� rolled up in tunnels �

� the fee is your life
and you're payin' the cost �

� ready to snatch your spot �

� better grab your glock �

� tonight's gonna be murder �

� ready with them hollow-shots
on your own block �

� tonight's gonna be murder �

� ready to slash a spot
better grab your glock �

� tonight's gonna be murder �

� ready with them hollow-shots
on your own block �

� tonight's gonna be murder �

� I got the Mexican
hangin' on my arm �

� 'cause I'm proud for �

� so my desert eagle homes
that account for �

� nigga, I ain't got
a mouthful �

� looks like you
got a blindfold �

� 'cause you can't see me �

� all my life, born and raised
in these L.A. streets �

� pain and joy mixed up
like coke and hennessy �

� and we sippin' all night
got the chrome on sight �

� yo, mc's gotta eat
so I grab the Mike �

� and treat it like
a bullet in my gun �

� when I bust motherfuckers
run, I'm on fire �

� burning
like the flaming son �

� won't stop
till my life is done �

� four-fifth of the Magnum �

� ready, willing
so don't start shit �

� your flat-line's
in my blip �

� and they ain't tough yet �

� there's no comin' back
and what you call a wetback �

� we'll leave you with
a wet back, so just step back �

� ready to snatch a spot
better grab your glock �

� tonight's gonna be murder �

� ready with them hollow-shots
on your own block �

� tonight's gonna be murder �

� ready to slash your spot
better grab your glock �

� tonight's gonna be murder �

� ready with them hollow-shots
on your own block �

� tonight's gonna be murder �
� yeah �

� ready to snatch your spot
better grab your glock �

� tonight's gonna be murder �

Priority productions, man.

Not to be fucked with.

� Tonight's gonna be murder �

not to be fucked with.
� ready to slash your spot �

most high.

� Tonight's gonna be murder �
not to be fucked with.

� Ready with them hollow-shots �
� yeah �

� on your own block �

� nothing but �
� tonight's gonna be murder �