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Quick! This way!

Stay on 'em!

Right there! Right there!

Move! Move! Move!

Okay. Okay.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.

Mr. Cage!
You can release the little guppy.

Or you can fight.

The choice is yours.

You think we lost him?

Mr. Cage!

Does it sound like we did?

Hear me now.

Search everywhere.

There.

- Above!
- Sweet Christmas.

Up on the rooftop there! Go! Go! Go!

- Hurry.
- Find them!

What?

How we gonna make that?

I can't make that.

Oh, hell, no!

God damn.

You won't have to.

Get him! Now!

Damn.

You got five seconds to tell me
why your boss invaded Harlem

and what he wants with Raymond Jones.

Five, four, three, two, one.

Rassclaat!

This way.

Up there!

I can't. He ain't gonna make it.

How the hell you do that?

Don't look so surprised, man.
Let's go.

Damn. Look what you did to my leg, Luke.

Supposed to save me, not hurt me. Shit.

"Rassclaat."

What does that even mean?

That's a foul. Didn't he see that?

- They hesitating. They gonna lose.
- Huh? What you say?

They got too much power,
too much talent. They cannot lose.

And now, a WBPJ breaking news update.

Tonight, a grisly discovery
at Harlem's Shirley Chisholm Complex

turned a ribbon-cutting celebration
into a macabre nightmare.

A warning: The visuals you are
about to see are deeply disturbing.

Come on in!

Three severed heads were placed
at the complex,

owned by former councilwoman
Mariah Dillard.

And with emerging reports
of an armed attack at a party

thrown by Harlem-based Wall Street
impresario Raymond "Piranha" Jones

and Mexican cartel-level violence,

one wonders if there are
more ominous events ahead.

No matter where you go, savagery.

Pure savagery.

Where's the talent in that?
Where's the power?

All I see is fear.

Talk, bredren.

Piranha's gone. He's running.

- How?
- Luke Cage.

Rassclaat.

- You check the Harlem's Hero app?
- I did. Nothing yet.

Call Irie Cabs. Tell Berchel I need...

Done. He gave me four cabs
to cover the area.

I don't want four cabs.
I want every cab.

Flood the streets, and he'll float
to the surface. You hear?

Yeah, skipper.

And, Sheldon, hear me now.

No weakness.

No excuses.

Move. Move!

Psst!

I'm good. I don't need no ride, man.

You seen Luke Cage?

Nah, man.
The brother don't got a smoke signal.

He just kinda shows up, right on time.

Check the barbershop. Keep asking
around for him. He'll find you.

We good?

We're good.

Walk good, bredren.

Ma, I'm around the corner.

Tell Aunt Val to stay at home.

The streets is hot.

Whew.

Shit.

Man, you gotta get me out of here.

Not until you tell me
why the Stylers are after you.

I ain't had no R&B group at my party.

The Jamaicans, sucker, from Brooklyn.
Why are they after you?

Or is it somebody you deal with?

What's your connection to Mariah Dillard
and Shades Alvarez?

Stacks. Bills. Gouda. Paper.
Greenbacks. Ducats.

They're my clients. I get 'em paid.

Hold up. Why are you questioning me?

You work for me. I'm paying you.
You are my Hero for Hire.

Well, where's my money, honey?
You still owe me from the party.

Look, I'm good for it, okay?

Just get me safe,
and I'll set you straight for life.

Why should I protect you?

You tried to shoot me for fun.

I was just trippin', bro.
You know how we do. Come on, man.

You're wasting my time. We're done.

You just gonna give your word
and take it back?

Shit! Shit!

Hey. That's very unprofessional,
brother, okay?

No wonder you have a
billion-dollar talent

but work out of the
back of a barbershop.

Hey.

Hey, I didn't know you was that
sensitive, brother. My bad. My bad.

It's sprained.

I'm gonna splint it,

and you're gonna tell me
everything I need to know.

Sugar, guard the back.

Anyone comes near it, shoot first.
No questions asked.

I'm on it. What about the front?

Let me worry about it.
We'll get more guys.

Do you have time to get anybody?

I'll take care of it.
Go wall off the back.

Copy.

Damn.

Niggas are posted up outside
like it's the Alamo or some shit.

- What's going on?
- Where you been?

You ain't heard?

They cut off Ray Ray's head and placed
it in front of Chisholm Complex.

- What?
- Bushmaster.

He killed Cockroach, too.

Where the hell were you? We're at war.

You want us to all spill blood
with the Jamaican cats,

who, against your advice,
she sold her gun business to?

Your point?

Ray Ray was good people.

Now, the rest? The Jamaicans killed them
to put Mariah on front street.

Which makes me ask again:
What's it got to do with you?

Mariah gets back from the station,
we'll decide what to do.

Decide?

That's not a plan.

You got a better one?

Mariah's with the cops.
The Jamaicans are cutting heads off.

Now, if you ask me,
I say it's time to cut the bitch loose.

We're not doing that.

What advice would you give you?

You're getting way too emotional
about this shit.

You're right.

Where you going?

They want Piranha
because they must be after the money.

That fool has access to every dime
we earned on that Atreus Plastics deal.

If we're gonna find him,

we don't need to go big.

That's probably what they expect.

We need to go special forces
with this shit.

Like old times.

Me and you.

I thought we sold all these.

First rule of business?

Never sell the good shit.

Rivals?

We ain't got none.

How did your call with the chief go?

I walked him through our theory

that there's a connection between
the heads that turned up tonight,

the attack on Raymond Jones' party,

and the murders last week
of Arturo Rey in Harlem

and Nigel Garrison in Brooklyn.

Did you tell him the Stylers
are about to invade Harlem?

I did. I used the dreaded phrase
that wakes up most politicians.

Gang war.

And?

He gave us 50 extra unis.

- You've got to be kidding me.
- That's the good news.

The bad news is that we've got 48 hours
to get this thing under control,

or the governor's sending in
the National Guard... and ICE.

They're gonna round up
every Jamaican on sight,

innocent or implicated.

- You got a better idea?
- Yeah. Our friend.

He's your friend.

Has he said hello to you today?

That's what I thought. He doesn't need
to follow rules or a clock.

Luke Cage works when he feels like it.
Harlem's Hero, my ass.

Luke Cage is not the problem
or the target.

Now, none of this is random,
and Mariah knows who and why.

Hold on.
We need to talk about Cockroach first.

How did you know where to go?

I didn't. The heads
hadn't turned up yet.

I got to Cockroach's
around quarter to 10:00.

Why'd you go there?

I wanted to do a welfare check
on Drea Powell.

Look, he had just put her
back in the hospital.

- She said it was Cockroach?
- She didn't have to say it.

It was in her eyes.

That's right. Because
eyes testify, right?

So I got to the spot, went in,

and that's when I found him
sitting on the couch,

draped in blood with his head missing.

I called it in. You know the rest.

How'd you get inside?

Was the door open?

I picked the lock. Look, my gut...

Your gut does not constitute
probable cause.

What does it matter?

We caught the body.
Let's work the case.

You contaminated the investigation.
There's a file on my desk.

Ben Donovan filed a complaint with IAB

an hour after your chat
with Mr. Hamilton in his apartment.

The same apartment that he
was beheaded in hours later.

Harlem is a goddamn
firecracker right now.

And that is way more important
than me falling on my sword.

Now, let me get in there
and talk to Mariah

to get to the bottom of this
before shit escalates any further.

Go home, Mercedes, until further notice.

I been knowing Mariah since I was a kid.
My whole life, man.

My mom was working for the Stokes.

So when I started making noise
on Wall Street,

she was one of the first people
to support me.

You know, giving me clients,
downtown connections.

- What did she want?
- Money.

Real money.

She wanted to know more
about offshore banking and stocks.

The crooked legal ways
white folk get down

when it comes to
protecting their green.

She's surprising.

How so?

She's bougier than Lawrence Otis Graham,
but with the tenacity of Frank Lucas.

She's straight gully with her shit.

That's the problem.

It's what's coming
out of the gully after her.

And you.

I have been sitting here
for well over an hour.

I am sorry, May May.

In here, you're protected.
Out there, you're not.

- May May? Oh, hell, no.
- Want something from Red Rooster?

You're a witness. Relax.

No one thinks you're responsible.

That's always been your tell.

Your smile.

I am not that shy girl
you held hands with in the ninth grade.

Ninth, tenth, and eleventh.
You don't remember?

I never forget.

And then there was Karla,
and that was that.

It's been 30 years?

Thirty-five. I'll give her your regards.

I didn't send them.

I'm not a suspect.

I can go.

You're free to go whenever you want.

Sayonara, baby.

- Misty.
- What?

You can't be back here. Captain's got
paperwork for you to fill out.

- Really, Donnie?
- Yeah.

Fine.

Before you leave, one question.

About the same time those heads rolled,
five gunmen attacked a private party

in an attempt to kidnap a man
I think you might be familiar with.

Witnesses also put Luke
Cage at the scene.

People say he might have
rescued Raymond Jones.

Might have? Or did?

I don't know.
No one's seen either one of them since.

We've got narcotraficante shit.

Pirates of the Caribbean-type shit.

And now it's in Harlem.
You remember the posses?

This is the posses on steroids.
Talk to me, May May.

What do you know?

I want protection.
For me and my daughter.

We'll protect you both. I promise.
But I'm gonna need your help.

The heads.

Did you know any of them?

Mark Higgins.
He was at my fundraiser last week.

What about Andre Jackson?

Yes, that's Ray Ray.
He worked at the Paradise.

- Did you know he had a record?
- Uh, yeah.

It's better to give a con a chance.

Turn him away, he got to rob you.

Dontrell Hamilton,
ran a down-low gambling operation.

This was taken in Harlem's Paradise
less than a week ago.

I don't work the door.

Nope.

Nope.

What can I say? Players wanna play.

We are the most exciting
club in the city.

Then it's game over.

Now they're all dead.
We know about your gun deal.

My gun deal?

You can't hide that from me.

You think your cousin
prepared you for this?

Cornell shot people, beat people to
death. He threw cats off of rooftops,

but he always got rid of the bodies,
and you know why?

Because he feared the law.

Those Stylers don't fear a thing.

May May, if you don't cooperate with us,
I can't protect you.

I'll be fine.

It's good to see you, Tommy.

Man, the British press ain't no joke.
They don't even censor this shit.

How'd you rig the game for Mariah?

I just gave her some inside information.
What's wrong with that?

It's illegal.

Well, it shouldn't be.
I mean, everybody does it.

Why they give you
the weather conditions

before a football game?
Give you the injury report?

Let you know when a coach is
about to be fired?

So people can make
intelligent decisions on their bets.

- That's all the information is for.
- Sit down.

We took the gun-sale cash
and bought a whole lot of stock,

'cause I knew that Glenn Industries was
gonna buy the company.

Which would take their investment
and make it...

Ten times more.

Like when 50 had a piece of Vitaminwater
before Coca-Cola bought it.

Exactly, my brother.

Only problem was the chairman of Atreus
wanted to scuttle the sale.

But Mariah found a way.

Yep.

Wait, wait, wait. Damn.

That's what she does.

Yeah, well...
So the vote sailed through, and bam.

Black Mariah Trump.
Fair, square, legal, untouchable.

That still doesn't explain why
Bushmaster and the Stylers want you.

Are they mad at you because you made
Mariah all that money?

Is that why they put
Mark Higgins' head on a stick?

I do more than just
manage money, brother.

I offer a whole suite
of high-end services.

Everything from bespoke analytics
and business intelligence,

to temporary power of attorney over
assets to prevent asset seizure.

- I mean, a piranha.
- Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.

You have power of attorney
over Mariah's funds?

Yeah, and the club, too.
Temporarily, I mean. So what?

So whoever controls you,
controls Mariah and Shades.

All right, look, bruh. I did everything
you said. I told you everything I know.

Just get me to my
private jet, so I can

get you paid and get
the hell outta here.

This is...

Nope.

What?

You're too valuable.
You're the Archduke Franz Ferdinand.

You're a living, breathing, one-man
Crispus Attucks ghetto stash house.

The best bargaining chip ever.

I guess we're just gonna
hunker down for the night.

And tomorrow morning,
I'm gonna get you to the cops.

The morning?

You know, you really
suck at this whole

"for hire" thing. You
realize that, right?

I mean,
just no professional ethics at all.

Just... Just ghetto.

Support black business, brother.

Shoot. You bulletproof. I'm
ghetto-proof. That's some bullshit.

What's up, D.W.?

I heard about
that wild-ass Ghostface party.

I know it's some honeys up in there
looking all exotical and shit.

I could've used some footage.
You home yet?

No. Why?

I saw two cats walking into the
barbershop through the back door.

They didn't look like friends of yours.

Ooh!

I have not been here in a minute.

Yeah, it's all come full circle.

And now that the Lenox Lounge
is gonna be a Sephora,

old Harlem suddenly feels new.

I remember
when this place was a weed spot.

Streets are hot again.

And you're right at
the center, as usual.

But why, is the question.

Three-quarter tax-free pension.

I'd give my right arm
for that kind of package.

You know, you don't sugarcoat shit,
and I appreciate that about you.

You know, I should tell you, I don't
consult for the department anymore,

so whatever you say to me tonight or

moving forward is
completely confidential.

Okay.

I...

was about to...

plant evidence on a guilty suspect.

But I discovered his body instead.

Well, that's one way
to go about the job.

I'm about to get fired.

You probably should.

You don't think it's ever okay to do
the wrong thing for the right reason?

Life is funny like that.

If you get bit by a snake,
paramedic poisons you again to cure you.

And God help you
if you have a bad reaction,

because, at that point,
you'll wish you were dead.

Believe me.

What?

There is no right answer.

Nobody gets a time machine.

Now, you need to figure out
how to fix this.

You gotta be honest with yourself
about who you are right now.

Not the you
that everybody wants you to be.

And you're gonna have to dig deep.

You're gonna have to go inside
the basement of your psyche,

and dust things off...

and think about what's real.

Otherwise, it'll eat away at you.

And then who knows who you'll become?

Auntie, go home. We'll finish here.

My good, good nephew.

- Love you.
- Love you.

Babes, don't tarry.

Another man would've lost his head
for the disrespect you showed tonight.

Do not talk to me like that.

The day I'm scared to speak my mind,
Lord strike me dead. Even you.

Come on. Let's reason, you know.

I didn't save your life
and help raise you

for you to do the
things you did tonight.

You know damn well why it's so.

The Stokes family,
they took everything from us.

Mariah must burn!

Then kill her. I can't argue that.

But this terrorism makes
our people look bad.

I don't care how we look.

You don't understand
our people's position in this country?

We come here with nothing,

and build everything up from scratch.

Restaurants, car services, nursing,

tax preparation, engineering.

We stress education,

and we work hard.

You want people to be sent back?

You want to make our people look so
savage that this country turns on us?

Come on.
This country already turned on us.

It began with the Stokes.

People think they can do whatever
they want with no consequence. No.

Then finish it with dignity,
not suffering.

An eye for an eye
makes the whole world blind.

The past is gone. You can't change it.

All you can do is build something
for the next generation.

You're family.

I love you.

But you must find peace in your heart.

I say war.

I make it all the way out of Seagate

just to get whacked over some beef
I ain't even cook.

That's some funny shit.

Stubborn old bitch.

Mariah hasn't been in this game
as long as us.

She couldn't see what I saw.

Then why is she the one
running things and not you?

'Cause you ain't seen what I seen.

When Luke Cage showed up,
Cottonmouth mentally unraveled.

I saw him beat this dude to death
with his bare hands.

He was becoming increasingly reckless.

I was never shook, but he was a problem.

That stubborn old bitch pushed him
right through that circular window

and then finished his ass off
with a mic stand.

She fixed the problem.

You saw her do it?

I was on my way there that night
to kill his ass myself.

She beat me to it.

She has ice in her veins, kid.

And I'm telling you, when it comes time
to deal with the Stylers,

she will not hesitate.

Who else knows
she really killed Cottonmouth?

Just you.

I can't trust anybody else.

I don't get you, B.

What's not to understand?

Cottonmouth, Diamondback...

They knew what I know.

You're a born leader.

Brilliant.

But you finally got a chance
to be in control and take charge,

and you riding for someone
who doesn't deserve the crown.

You should take that shit from her.

What's your plan?

To live the American dream.

I got a loaded gun, a hard dick
and a pocket full of cash.

That's the American dream. Right?

There's more than this shit,
and you know it.

Thousand-dollar suits,

bitches, champagne...

All that shit is cute,

but when you have to kill to get it,
you're gonna get killed if you keep it.

That's karma.

That's the life.

We do what we do.

But there's a better way,

a bigger life...

one where you don't have to look
over your shoulder every second.

Mariah's taught me that.

You're just out of prison,
but you still have that mentality.

You gotta forget all that shit.

We don't have to be just gangsters.

We could be so much more than that.

We are more than that.

Or did you forget that shit, too?

Inside was inside.

Lack of human interaction.

Lack of trust.

We did what we had to do
to keep from going crazy.

We didn't have to do shit.

I wanted to.

You did, too.

Life inside is inside.

Prison has its own set of rules

that no one in the outside world
would ever understand.

We're out now.

It's different.

I'm different. We're different.

I ain't different.

Inside, outside...

I am who I am, B.

- What do you want me to say?
- Come on, man.

Cats out here getting
their heads cut off.

Maybe we survive. Maybe we don't.

I'm just saying how I feel.

I would die for you, Che.

That'll never change.

But it is what it is.

We need to find Lucas.

We're wasting our time here.

No time is ever really wasted.

Time reveals all.

Your call has been forwarded to an

automated voice messaging system.

Tilda.

You can't just ghost me like that.

Call me.

Please.

You call me.

It's me. Do you.

God! Hernan!

I didn't mean to disturb you.

Come in. Stay.

Pour me a drink, please.

Pour yourself a drink, too.

To trust and love.

Screw 'em both.

Everyone I ever loved...

has betrayed me.

Mama Mabel.

Uncle Pete.

Cornell.

Now... Tilda.

- You don't mean that.
- Oh!

When I really needed them,
where they been?

I'm sure Shades is...

Don't even get me started on Shades.

Yeah, bad-ass bitch.

If it weren't for Luke Cage, Piranha...

and everything I own would be long gone.

My sworn enemy is the
only one I can trust

to protect everything
I've got left in this world.

Hey. Over there.

Pull over.

They could be in there. Call Sheldon.

Can I use your phone?

Nope.

Oh, come on, brother.
Look, I got people that I care about...

who are probably worried about me.
Don't you?

Man, stop trying to bond with me.

You know, I'm fueled by failure.

See, my mother was one
of Mama Mabel's hoes.

- Her best one.
- You sound proud of that.

Desiree.

One of her regulars was a banker.

He's big-time. You know.
He promised to get her out the life.

He fell in love with her hard.

But that was bullshit,
because he wasn't gonna leave his wife.

So my mom just had me,
and he stopped calling.

In fact, you know that book on my desk?
Why Should White Guys Have All the Fun?

Yeah, that was his.

He left it behind in her room.

You know, I went to see him
after I graduated City College...

and he had me escorted out his office.

I made Forbes "30 Under 30,"

and he lost everything
in the mortgage crisis.

But guess who showed up
with their hands out?

I told that bastard
he could take a hike.

I know that must've felt good.

Aw, that shit felt great.
In the moment...

even though I never saw him again.

I'll tell you what's better than great:

paying all my mom's bills,

you know, calling her
at least once a day.

I'm my own father.

Your father was a reverend, right?
He was a preacher.

What's his name? Reverend what?

Reverend Nunya.

That Swahili?

You could say that.

You really don't like me asking
about your daddy, huh?

- What happened?
- Nunya business, man.

Is he in your life?

Not exactly. Are we done?

Why not?

Because when I went to prison,
he didn't believe I was innocent.

And when I got out,
I didn't need him. Okay?

I get it.

I don't need you to get it.

Well, I do.

I also get why you keep running around
town, trying to save everybody else.

You're just running from yourself.

You need to go see your daddy.

I think I know what I gotta do.

Really?

What's that?

I gotta take you to the cops.

Luke, where are you?

I'm holed up in a theater with Piranha.
He's the key to this whole thing.

He can bring down Mariah, Shades,
even Bushmaster.

He's got control over her money.

He can speak to her money laundering
and insider trading.

That's federal time.

Give me an address. I'll come to you.

No, you'll expose us.

Bushmaster's got gypsy cabs
patrolling the neighborhood.

Are there any distinguishing marks
on the cabs?

Yeah, they got some kind of logo
on the door,

Jamaican colors:

black, gold, green...

with a hint of red.

Bingo.

I just spotted one
right outside the precinct.

Shit!

He took off.

But I got the license plate
and I clocked the logo.

His ass is mine now.

Piranha, it's not funny. Where you at?

Hurry, before he finds us.

Ah, shit!

I got to call home, damn it!

- Wait!
- Get him down there, and shut him up.

Luke! Luke!

- Shit.
- Help, Luke! Help!

Help!

Piranha!

Run! Run!

Come this way!

Enough!

Go, go, go!

Get him up!

You okay?

That shit was dope!

Come on, let's go.
I'll get you someplace safe.

God damn!

God damn...

I gave you one job.

You don't give me jobs.
We're either partners or we're not.

It's gone. Everything.
Everything is gone.

- We'll get it back.
- Oh, God.

My dream, just...

All of the handshaking,
all the baby- and ass-kissing,

every campaign I ever waged
was about my dream for this community.

Family First!

I swore I would take
that hard-ass woman's mantra

and just make it into
something good and beautiful,

and it would wash away all of the
violence and the murder and the hurt.

Wash it away,
and now the dream has exploded.

- Doesn't have to.
- No, don't...

Go ahead and say it! Say it!

You warned me about Bushmaster,
but I was so greedy I couldn't hear it.

I sold my Harlem to a crazed bush nigga.

This whole shitshow is because of me.

What's done is done.

It's time now to take care of
our enemies. Do you hear me?

I'm listening.

The night after you closed the gun deal,
I followed Bushmaster back to Brooklyn.

Wasn't easy.

He's paranoid as hell.

And I found his go-to spot.

A Jamaican restaurant called Gwen's.

He has friends there.

Maybe even family.

Good.

Good.

What do you want to do?

Wait till we get Piranha back.

And then?

Uh-huh.

May I ask you a question?

Who else knew about
what happened to Tone?

Besides Turk and Cornell?

Nobody.

What about Spurlock?

He just burned the body.

That's all?

No one else knows?

Nobody else.

Why?

Just wondering.

That's what I was doing
at Cockroach's apartment.

I went there to plant evidence.

The son of a bitch was suing Luke,
he beat the shit out of Drea,

and I wanted payback.

Okay.

I can work with that.

Work with it?

I almost framed a man.

- But you didn't.
- Because he was already dead.

The fact that you're in here confessing
speaks volumes.

So, that's it?

I get a stern talking to, and then
I go back out there and do the job?

No, you have to live with what you did.

What if I can't?

In case you haven't noticed,
there's a war raging in our streets.

Yeah, I've noticed the war.

It's the same one
that we have been fighting for years,

and shit doesn't change.

But the rules of engagement do, and
if I do it your way, nothing happens.

Zilch.

And the other way, I become Scarfe.

And I cannot become Scarfe.

- I'm not worried you will.
- Yeah, well, you're not me.

Misty, don't.

I can't accept that.

I'm done.

I will turn in my paperwork tomorrow.
I'm... I'm sorry, Captain. I really am.

How long are we supposed to sit here?

Well, it's about time.

I can't stay.

But I need your help.

Anything.

This is Raymond Jones.

He needs a place to hide.

Friends call me Piranha.

It's a honor to meet the reverend
behind the big man.

So, tell me, how was he as a kid?
Was he always this strong?

Mr. Jones, if you wouldn't mind,
could you just give us a moment, please?

- Oh, yeah. Go 'head. Do you. Do you.
- Thank you.

What's going on?

Piranha's in trouble.
I'm trying to get him out of it.

Does this have anything to do with all
that craziness last night at that party?

Or with the heads on pikes?

Look, I'll tell you everything
when I get back.

But for now, can he stay?

The church is a sanctuary.
Of course he's welcome.

And...

so are you.

Just make sure he doesn't leave, okay?

And you stay off the streets, too.
It's not safe.

Is it safe for you?

Hey!

If I'm not back in an hour, you call
Mercedes Knight at the Harlem PD.

She'll protect you.

And what are you gonna do?

What I do.

What's the word? You find them?

No, they haven't.

And they won't.

I've got something you want.
Piranha Jones.

And what you want in return?

A good old-fashioned showdown.

You and me. Today.

No weapons. No sneak attacks.
A fair fight.

If you win, you get Piranha.

If I win, you leave
him and Harlem alone.

Where?

High Bridge. Let's say...

High noon. I love those cowboy movies.

Luke Cage!

John McIver.

Born in Brooklyn.

Raised in Kingston.

Murdered your way
to the top of the Stylers.

Now you're in Harlem.

You wanna write my life story?

No, but I might edit it.

You braggadocious?

I've fought gangsters with powers,

maniacs looking for cheap revenge
and immortality.

Is that you?

I'm not interested in anything cheap.

Revenge is expensive.

So that's it?

This war for Harlem
is about revenge against Mariah?

Why?

History.

Destiny.

You can't fight with the ancestors.

- Don't you wanna live your own life?
- And do what? Hmm?

Get a job? Love a woman? Raise children?

- Sounds good to me.
- Is that your life?

No. Not while I have to deal
with people like you.

You have power. I have power.

Why fight one another when we could join
together and take it from Mariah? Hmm?

Because you're a homicidal criminal.

And, for better or worse,
I'm Harlem's Hero.

You talk too much to be a hero.

Heroes do.

You're done.

Give up.

Can't... move.

You're paralyzed.

There are things that come from the
earth, power you won't understand.

Respect.

Under different circumstances,
we could have been friends.

sync and corrections by awaqeded
www.MY-SUBS.com.