[drum music playing]
MAC-11, [inaudible] 1,200 rounds a minute.
Point and spray.
Ain't no subtlety when you're repping this bad boy trust.
Yeah, the 45 ting. The Man Stopper.
Only top shooters got one of these blood.
Can knock a whole through a brick wall,
but it kick like a horse.
But ammo scarce [inaudible].
Revolver.
Spinner.
Old Reliable.
Only holds six shots, but it don't jam like the [inaudible]..
At the moment of truth, this strap won't let you down.
The nine.
Come in all shapes and sizes [inaudible]
don't have the stopping power of the 45,
but you'll have no problem finding one.
The gun that flooded the streets.
Anyone who calls himself a gangster
won't have one of these.
[music intensifies]
[inaudible] It's all about P and my homie, Samurai,
bringing you the biggest and the bashiest music in the UK.
Trust me, come in big and bashy [inaudible]
Whoa, and that's bashy.
What I'm saying is I want to take it to the streets.
Indeed.
I'm talking about three guys calling themselves Time Served
straight out of south London.
We're live right now, people.
It is now.
You see this tune?
It's not released yet.
You can't get it nowhere.
You're going to hear it here first.
The reason why we've got it is 'cause we're big like that.
We are big like that.
[inaudible]
I want to say be up to my homie, Devon.
He's the manager of the group, so go on and [inaudible]
No, see, Devon, he's my [inaudible]..
But I've got to say straight up and down--
I know what you're going to say, I
know what you're going to say.
--my man is going to come correct.
Indeed.
The front cover, man.
You know what, Dev?
The cover is a little bit shady, bro.
[inaudible]
Little bit corny, bro.
But trust me, still.
It's all about the music, it's all about Time Served.
It's all about the Ghetto War Cry.
[music - "ghetto war cry"]
This is Time Served, Ghetto War Cry.
We don't play.
And this is [inaudible] up on the stage.
[inaudible] So rap with rage.
When they see me on the rampage, your man's afraid.
When I got my hands on the gauge.
Time Served [inaudible] don't stand in our way.
The top shot on moneymakers [inaudible]..
Sipping champagne with cocaine [inaudible] when you
see me [inaudible] my major.
The street, play it safe in the ghettos.
[inaudible] when I flex.
Show me disrespect, [inaudible].
That's how we rep.
Time Served, so let me step on the line.
Like my partner in crime [inaudible] Yo.
[inaudible] war cry.
[inaudible]
Yeah, trust me, this CD's big.
2,000 copies.
Gonna cause damage.
What?
Rage looks about ten years old, man.
And you, you look like a gangster.
I ain't got no problem about this.
Hey, yo, Finny, what do you think of that?
Easy, easy.
I put a lot of fucking money into that.
You pulled that fucking stupid face
when they took the photo, Rage.
I reckon you're stuck with it for 2,000 copies.
The fuck do you know?
Fuck do you know?
What you mean?
Finny's last record was an underground legend, buddy.
Fuck that, I wasn't even born back then.
Shut your mouth, you little punk.
You'll get all that.
Right now, you're gonna be big.
You're getting a lot of radio play.
Record labels are trying to kick down the doors.
Yeah?
So when you reckon I'm gonna see some dough for this, then?
Money?
Forget about money.
Tonight, they're just gonna take you out.
Show you the high life.
Show you what it's really about.
You know.
Champs, cars, girls.
So finally, you're gonna get some pussy tonight.
Ha, ha, ha you're funny.
Fuck you.
[music playing]
[inaudible] It's the big man.
[inaudible]
It's me, SD.
Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo.
[inaudible] hang around my waist like an orangutan.
You don't want lead in your face.
You don't want [inaudible].
--any man with a black bandana, ski mask, and hammer.
[inaudible] Watch your mouth.
[inaudible]
You see?
This is what I'm talking about.
Cristal, blood.
You don't drink no [inaudible] champagne 'cause
you know it tastes like piss.
Yo, waitress, these are my boys, there.
Yeah, I mean Time Served.
You know, that big group that got
[inaudible] I want you to go bring some more champagne.
[inaudible] I want Cristal.
I don't even want to drink the fucker,
I just want to throw it on the floor.
You get me.
All right.
And darling, that's for you.
Yo, yo, yo, yo.
[inaudible]
Hey, how about one of them [inaudible] for me?
She ain't got [inaudible].
[inaudible]
It's OK.
What's going, bloods?
Yeah, we're all these black folk here
in a top club sipping on a Cristal.
You boys, it's going up.
The hell you doing here, pushy man?
Huh?
I come [inaudible] I couldn't leave you here
to enjoy this shit without me.
I know, let's get it on.
[inaudible] That shit is fucking blessed, blood.
[inaudible]
Yeah, hear the DJ.
This is the biggest and bashiest sound around.
How much your boy, Devon, be paying, huh?
It's easy that, or one of you guys [inaudible]
[laughing]
[inaudible] You boys riding there in a stretch,
and I'm kicking in Hope's jalopy.
Well, you've got to realize something, yeah?
You can't just sit on your ass and get in our limo.
Strictly artists.
Artists?
That what you call yourself there?
Shit.
I want to propose a toast, yeah?
[inaudible] everybody let's grab your glass.
Yeah, grab a glass.
[inaudible]
[inaudible] you understand?
Yeah.
All right.
Time Served!
Come here.
Time Served, yeah.
Time Served.
[club music playing]
[girl moaning]
[inaudible] You fucking won't.
Stay still, stay the fuck still.
[girl moaning]
[club music playing]
Waiting for that.
Get it on.
Let me see that thong.
Hey, Devon.
What's going on, dude?
How you doing, man?
You all right?
Yo, fellas, remember Josh [inaudible]??
Yeah.
All right, Josh.
All right, man.
How you doing?
I'm all right.
All right.
Damn, girl.
You know I'm a photographer, huh?
I work with beautiful women every day.
But this one?
Ha ha, you're my favorite.
There you go.
We'll take some pictures.
It's good to see you again, old man.
[inaudible] street 100% gangster.
Off the hook?
You don't know.
Ha, little man?
Aha.
You know what?
You know, if you guys maybe stop posing for one minute,
then maybe, just maybe, we could've come up
with something a lot better.
Huh?
Is this guy for real, Devon?
Look, Josh, down a little bit.
Oh, no, no.
Oh, wait.
I get it, I get it.
You guys are like, big stars now.
So I'm supposed to dance around you
on cracked eggshells and stuff?
Ha ha.
Fuck.
You guys haven't even sold one record yet.
Fucking fuck this.
You know?
Hey, what's your name again?
Rage.
Rage?
No, no, seriously.
What's your real name?
Rage is-- ha, ha, ha.
Rage.
Rage!
That's my ghetto war cry.
You see what I did there?
Little play on words, you like that?
Boom.
All right, I'm out of here.
All right, guys, you take care.
Have a good one.
Where'd you get that guy, Rage?
[inaudible]
Hey, [inaudible],, are you [inaudible]??
You want a kiss?
Fuck off.
[laughing]
You ever thought about having your picture taken?
You know, I picture you in front of a log fire,
lying on a wooly mat or a furry rug.
You know what I'm saying?
Josh.
Chickie.
Just wait one second, OK?
I'm just gonna go and talk to him.
I'll be right back.
Don't run away.
Hehe.
Damn, look at you.
Looking all b-la-la-la-ling.
Haha.
Bling.
You know what I mean.
You got to watch what your saying, brother.
Because if you're going to run your gums to my light, Rage.
Well that's just stupid as sitting
there trying to draw my sister.
You feel?
I feel.
Now, I suggest you go home.
Sleep it off before you say something
that's gonna land you in a whole lot of shit.
OK.
I'm sorry.
Who's this joker?
Huh?
Look it.
Come here.
But you know we got to go home [inaudible] Come.
Come on, let's go.
No, I don't want to.
Ah.
You don't want to?
Look at you, girl?
Where's your keys?
Come on.
Man, come on.
Yo, Too Fine, Where you going, man?
Yo, man.
She's wounded.
Look at her.
[vomiting]
Women and their drinking champagne like it's water.
What do you expect?
So what?
You're gonna come over with a [inaudible]
to smoke some high-grade [inaudible]??
No, man.
Listen, I'd love to, man.
But I got to take care of this.
[music playing]
You're a beautiful woman, I'd love
to take some pictures of you.
Oh, thank you.
I picture you in a hot tub full of like, rose petals,
or something.
And just swimming around doing like, backstroke
and all this fancy kind of stuff, you know?
Well, maybe
Well, we should do something some day.
Sounds good.
Hey!
Rage.
This is Rage.
Rage!
Nice to meet you, Rage.
Haha.
His name's Rage.
Who the hell calls a guy Rage?
I mean, that's ridiculous.
[glass smashing]
Ah!
Fuck!
Ah!
Damn right it's fucking Rage.
[inaudible]
Fuck!
[music playing]
[car horn honking]
What, you're gonna lean on that horn all night, mate?
[gun shots]
So how have you been, Carl?
You know me, Andy.
[inaudible] Who'd you take it from?
Some perky [inaudible]
Is it any good?
I haven't fucking tried it, but if their reputation's
[inaudible] I'll be fucking blinded.
What's the matter with him, man?
He ain't speaking to me.
No, he's just making sure we're not getting disturbed.
What is it?
Kilo?
Kilo and a half?
Three grams short, two kilos.
What you want for it?
A good price.
500?
Fuck off.
We're talking kilos, not ounces.
[phone ringing]
[inaudible] This stuff ain't selling right now.
The only people smoking weed are blacks and bikers.
And I can't stand dealing with them cunts.
1,500 quid'll do it.
12.
Do you want to this fucking deal or not?
Yeah, I want to do it.
For 1,200 quid.
1,500 pound or I'll burn it.
All right.
Andy, you got to take this?
It better be fucking good.
This is White.
Yeah.
OK.
We're on our way.
Fuck's sake.
Problem?
You could say that some [inaudible]
just had his head blown off.
We've got to roll, mate.
Yeah.
No need to count it.
You cunt, you had it all along.
Have fun.
Yeah right.
See you later.
[phone ringing in background]
I know this is a very difficult time for you right now.
But this is when the little details are still
fresh in your mind.
In a couple of days, they won't be there.
It's those little details we're gonna be needing.
Thank you, I understand.
Please go ahead.
[inaudible]
[music playing]
[inaudible] 'cause my name flows better than Taliban.
[inaudible] Spit flows over [inaudible]..
Spit so cold, make you shook it like it was [inaudible]..
--takeover.
Take you through the mind state of a [inaudible]..
What?
[groaning]
[foot steps]
You even breathe too loud, and you're fucking dead.
[gasping]
Now, maybe you can tell me a thing or two
about a brother of yours.
My brother is dead, man.
[inaudible] That pussy don't stay on the money.
Where is it?
Speak up, bitch.
I don't know what you're talking about, man.
I said, he owed me money.
Why do you think he got mugged?
Who are you?
Can't you figure that shit out by now?
You fucker.
[heavy breathing]
If you don't keep that fucking mouth of yours closed,
I'm going to have to give you the same kind of treatment.
And now he owes me money, but he's dead.
You're his little sister.
It rolls down to you.
You owe me some dough, little bitch.
Take a look upstairs.
I see [inaudible].
You better start looking that shit out quick.
You've got two days to come through.
Take some free advice, bitch.
Don't go near the vets.
They can't protect you from us.
And if they come see you, I suggest
you hold that dough 'cause my blood clock gone bisexual
and [inaudible] a woman.
And if we come looking, and you ain't here,
then I'll turn your fucking mama over.
It's five grand.
Come find me when you got it.
33 [inaudible] Street.
I'll be waiting.
Any longer and my crew will behead your whole fucking
family.
They call me Temper for a reason, little girl.
I am not a man with whom to fuck.
Hm?
[heavy breathing]
[heart beating]
[heavy breathing]
Hola, Crikkit.
You're looking good.
You lose weight of something?
[coughing]
Please give money for food.
Well that's not strictly true, is it?
Please give money for crack, would be closer to the mark.
Get up on your feet.
What can you tell me about a guy called Too Fine.
Who?
Too Fine.
He was in some kind of hip-hop group.
The rapper.
Yeah, I've heard of him.
What have you heard?
All types of shit, man.
I can't remember.
Well, do you want to fucking try?
I can't, man.
I can't think of shit right now, man.
My mind's all over the fucking place.
I don't need this shit, man.
I just need something, yeah?
Just give me something.
Come on, man.
You stop fucking money.
Oh, come on, man.
I'm desperate.
Just give me some money.
Don't fucking touch me.
We got time for a detour.
Maybe he's got something.
We can't listen to this fucking prick.
He's off his fucking head.
He's fine.
Aren't you, Crikkit?
You know what day of the week it is?
It's Sunday, isn't it?
Six days out.
That's good enough.
Now get in the fucking car.
I don't want to get in the fucking car.
Get in the fucking car.
I'm not getting in the car.
I'm not going in the car.
You, piss off.
You're holding.
Holding what?
Give me a half-ounce bag.
I ain't holding, man.
Didn't you just hear what I said to him?
Come on, cough it up.
Don't fucking suck your teeth at me.
Two four-ounce bags.
That's fine.
Now, fuck off.
Get a fucking [inaudible] track it out [inaudible]..
Come on, get out.
Song tell me about Too Fine.
No way.
You don't get nothing until you tell us what we want to know.
Better be fucking worth it and all.
Too Fine.
Yeah, I remember.
Used to ride around here all the time.
What was he into?
He sold a bit of rock, coke, puff.
He used the money to make the music because that recording
shit ain't cheap.
Will you stop doing that, please?
Do you know why he got shot?
No, not exactly.
The word on the street is when he went in for the rapping,
he left a few street vets unpaid.
So that could mean anybody.
Is that it?
Can I go now?
Give me the fucking watch, man.
I'm dying here.
That's yours.
You want the rest--
pay attention.
I said, if you want the rest, you
got to come up with something.
And it better be good, OK?
We got a deal?
Fuck off.
That's your fucking informant.
[intense music playing]
[police siren]
[female scream]
[music continues]
[gun shot]
[music continues]
[knocking on door]
What the fuck are you doing here, bitch?
You know better than to come in here this time at night.
Did anyone ever teach you not to mix with bad men?
I've got your money.
That was quick.
You got to come in the morning, you know.
You sure that's the only reason you're here?
Yeah, I can see you want a bit more, don't you?
We both know this ain't about money tonight, girl.
You want what you already got, you dirty little--
You just fucked things right up.
You're wanking it both ways now, bitch.
I'm gonna fuck you.
And then I'm gonna lick you down right there, yeah.
You think you can pull this shit on me?
I stick my hood in that tight little hole of yours,
and you think that makes you a gangsta?
What do you know about shooting?
You ain't never done no killing.
You ain't gonna pull that trigger.
I'm gonna take that strap, and I'm gonna fuck you with it.
Give that little pussy a taste of point blank buck shot.
You're making all kinds of mistakes.
You just fucked your whole family.
I'm gonna bring me midnight and noon [inaudible] Fuck you,
fuck--
[coughing]
[laughing]
What-- what-- what you gonna do?
Why don't you put that strap down before you hurt yourself?
[inaudible] shoot a gun.
Hope, what are you doing here?
Can I come in?
Yeah, man, come inside.
You should have seen her, man.
That motherfucker Temper beat the shit out of her.
She did what she had to.
She done it.
Temper's got crew, you know, Finny.
Yeah, Chosen One and Chronic.
Well, the streets have got a way of sorting these things out.
Ain't gonna take them boys too long before they put it
all together.
I know.
And when they do, they're gonna come after Hope.
They're gonna blaze her.
Then they're gonna turn her family over,
and then they're gonna come after us.
Wait.
These little idiots [inaudible] our Too Fine, you know.
And now they're knocking Hope about.
I say we just blaze the whole fucking lot of them, blood.
Are you fucking serious?
Chosen One and Chronic?
Or their fucking bad boys, [inaudible] superstars?
So what?
Everyone goes down from a bullet, Rage.
Gunshot don't respect nobody.
Look, I'm with you on this, you know.
I don't care what this little man is saying.
I can't believe you're gonna weak out on this.
Blood, I ain't weaking out nothing.
Ain't like it's gonna be the first time for me.
I ain't no fucking virgin.
Just another notch on mine, then.
You know where to find 'em?
Think so.
I got the scraps locked down.
Let's make it right.
(RAPPING) I don't give a fuck about your reputation.
I'm the star from the top, like Christmas decorations.
And me merking you right now, that's my estimation.
Dedication plus patience equals innovation.
Get your voice on any station.
Why you waiting?
Why waste time debating, fucking around not raving?
Late night time in the studio slaivng, eight nights a week,
too many days in.
That's when you me a beard.
Fuck shaving.
He I'm tired of rhyming, but I am a pain he backside.
Your plan backfired.
You can look up anyone that's tried.
They can't merk me.
Never that.
That's right. it's not that season nor that time.
I ain't boasting, but I am that type.
So shut your noise and gimme that mic.
Heard the beat.
I was like, "gimme that mic."
And I wrote some fuck lyrics that night.
I'm on point, no falling behind.
It's all in the music.
It's all in the mind.
What you call it, garage?
What you call it, grime?
call it what you wanna cal it.
I'm fine, but rhyme-wise, I got a short order of mine.
Dukes, Dee, Whiley, ghetto.
These have got news flows all the time.
Testing.
Mic check, 1, 2.
Someone so called your name.
So what's new?
Fuck him.
Fuck them.
Fuck you.
If they wanna clash with me, I would love to.
Hello?
Who is this?
Who are you?
[click]
[screaming]
Hug, kiss, kiss.
That's how they greet me.
All because I flow ill like a sickness.
I'm a sick kid, but when I spit hot shit, I'm on fire,
but I'm a big blitz.
Testing.
Fuck them, fuck you.
If they want to clash with me, I would love to.
Hello?
Who is this?
Who are you?
Shut up.
What now?
What nasty?
Nah.
Fuck you!
Fred, Andy, over here.
Fuck's going on?
It's pretty serious.
Damn right it is.
It's Friday evening.
I was planning a little booze and nudies.
We got two dead bodies, both faces.
Chosen One and Chronic, gunned down in front of a full house
35 minutes ago.
Waitress caught a bullet in the crossfire.
There goes my fucking night.
Chosen One and Chronic, they're Temper's crew.
Where's Temper?
Jones just found his body.
Took two shotgun blasts point blank in is own front room.
Man's been dead for at least five hours.
We're going over to work it.
We got officers questioning witnesses as we speak.
They're all saying the same thing.
Two guys wearing motorcycle helmets walked in,
and starting spraying.
Left on a strat.
[inaudible] plate.
No doubt all these cunts are full of cocaine and overpriced
booze.
OK, we'll take it from here.
Is the waitress still alive?
ICU.
Collapsed lung cancer, punctured liver.
Nice.
Seems like some pretty heavy gang shit.
Maybe there's a war brewing.
Brewing?
I'd say it's well and truly underway, son.
It's gonna be a long fucking night.
All right, anyone touch anything?
Girl's been rushed to hospital.
No one's laid a finger on these two.
What you thinking, Ed?
Two shooters, right?
Had are themselves am DMG mag 10.
And look at this.
It's a smaller entry wound.
Different gun.
The only shell casings see around here are 45s.
They must have had a revolver.
Pretty high caliber too, by the looks of it.
Cheeky.
I'm thinking this is personal.
Doesn't have the look of a professional hit.
I reckon there's over 100 bullet holes in and around these two.
They unloaded whole clips into them, reloaded and carried
on spraying.
Now, if it was a professional hit,
there's much likely to be two taps to the head and a lot less
automatic fire.
This amount of lead was delivered with feeling.
Let's get this right.
You come in here, demanding money,
not even five minutes after your Rage is dead.
Your fucking soul.
Badmen ain't got no soul, blood.
Badman?
You're a badman now?
Maybe out there, but not in here.
I don't owe you fuck all.
I want my fucking expenses!
Expenses?
When you fucked up that kid what's his name?
Josh?
Who saved you?
You could have went to the pen.
Oh, I'm sorry.
I thought we were talking about money here.
Listen, I don't give a fuck about that little prick,
and I don't give a fuck about you!
Give me my money!
Money?
You ain't getting no money.
Tell him.
You sign three in a band.
There's now two.
You don't even exist.
You expired already, boy.
Finny, what the fuck is he talking about, we expired?
Finny, what the fuck?
What the fuck?
It's over.
I don't care anymore.
What are we doing here, Andy?
It's not like she can answer any of our questions.
Take a look at her.
I never lose sight of what this is all about.
Hello, love.
My name's Tony.
This is Pat.
We got someone that needs a little word with you.
So we came to pick you up here, make sure you don't get lost.
Do I have a choice?
Well, there's a couple.
Granted, we only suggest the one.
Get in the fucking motor.
So someone's worked you over.
Hope it wasn't one of my boys.
I heard about your brother.
Nasty business, that.
What do you want from me?
Just a little of your time.
Who are you?
Doesn't matter.
You won't have heard of me.
Sit down.
Look in the bag.
That is a kilo of very good cocaine.
I don't deal in that cut to fuck shit those trigger happy
yardie assholes keeping bringing in from Jamaica.
That's the real deal.
Straight from Holland.
What's that got to do with me?
Temper was one of my best customers.
His firm had three kilos a month from me.
Now, that's a regular wage with very little fuss
that I'm no longer getting.
Not to mention the stuff I'm sitting on.
That hasn't been paid for yet.
But you and your boys have lost me a lot of business.
You've got to do me right, girl.
You ain't lost the business.
You just changed your partner.
What are you talking about?
Forget Temper.
Deal with me.
You're just a little girl.
Is that what you think?
Go tell that to Temper.
It doesn't take a genius to put some cunt to bed.
It's not exactly rocket science.
Just give me a chance.
You got the money?
Give me that kilo there on credit.
I'll pay you back, plus an extra 30%.
Credit?
You want credit.
Now I know you're fucking joking.
Well, what else you gonna do?
Go out on the street and start dealing that shit yourself?
You won't get very far.
With Temper dead, you ain't got the links no more.
I do.
The only question is, have you got the balls to find out.
Is that what I think it is?
You better believe it.
Where'd you get it?
Don't matter.
That's my business.
What, is it like a ki?
That's exactly a ki, blood.
So what you wanna do with it?
You know the market better than I do, Pushy.
Is it live?
Grade A, Amsterdam's finest.
You know you'll get people queuing up to buy this shit.
We're knocking out skunk for years, you know.
And I've been smoking it for longer than that, blood.
You get what I'm saying?
We got the links, you know.
We could knock this shit out in no time.
That why I need your help.
Come in with me.
You too, Finn.
Us four together.
This is our chance to make some serious wong.
Reckon it's the best we'll ever get.
What's wrong?
This is proper things, Hope.
You get into this, and there's no turning back.
The music's over.
You've gotta look to the future.
What kind of future are you talking about, Hope?
We've all hustled before, right?
This is just taking things a step further.
It'll be good to get back into a business
that I fucking understand.
No CD sales, no fucking percentages,
just cold hard cash that ain't gonna
be declared to no fucking tax man.
Trust me, Hope.
We're in with you on this, you know.
[chuckle]
Finny?
What you looking at?
My sister just sent me these.
It was my niece's birthday last week.
Cute.
What did you get her?
Book tokens.
Original.
How much for?
10 pounds.
Oh, big spender.
"Generous," [inaudible] I bet that's what she calls you.
Fuck you.
You could have got her cash.
It comes in a variety of different colors
and you can spend it pretty much everywhere.
You know, buying book tokens--
Heads up.
Here he comes.
That's fucking close enough.
Crikkit, looking sharp.
You been on a sunbed or something?
Has he got a tan, or am I imagining it?
The boy looks fucking great.
Can you guess why we're here?
You wanna know something about the Plush night club shooting.
That'd be a good start.
I ain't nothing to tell.
No one's claiming it.
No crews, no firms, no gangs.
Yeah, yeah, shut up.
Have you got anything else for us?
[sniff]
Have you got something for me?
You said you wanted something good of me.
I've got all that and more for you, man.
What can you tell us about Temper and his crew?
I'm thinking maybe we got some kind of gang war on our hands.
Ain't no gang war going on.
You two boys are connected.
Too Fine and Temper's boys were always beefing.
You're sure?
Yeah, straight up.
Too Fine owed him money.
Must have macked him off or something,
because Temper goes apeshit.
[inaudible] He was really into protecting his shit.
Yeah, well, he doesn't anymore.
He's lying on a slab in the local morgue with half his face
missing.
For real?
You know where the brothers getting their guns
from these days?
What can you tell us?
We're looking for a mag 10 and a 357 magnum.
Magnum?
You need a man from [inaudible] for that shit, man.
Watch your mouth, you piss-taking little cunt.
Yo, Haines, man, Haines, Why don't you
call your boy off, Ned?
How about you stop wasting our fucking time and tell us
what wee wanna hear.
I'll tell you what I don't know, yeah.
There's this one guy.
He's selling all kinds of straps right now.
He just got a big parcel in from Europe,
and the word is, he's got plenty of road sweepers and spinners
getting all of that shit, man.
Who is he?
Some fucking yardie called Karnage.
This has got to be all over his hands, dealing rocks
and shit, man, you name it.
No where he lives?
No, but I know he likes to get his pussy.
[coughing]
Let me do all the talking.
I actually know how to communicate with women.
Whatever you say, stud.
Hand me those photos.
What, you want my niece's birthday?
Yes, come on.
Cough 'em up.
Hi there.
Hello, darling.
What can I do for you?
I was hoping you'd be able to do us a little favor.
Hand jobs are 10, a full sex is 45,
and a blow job will cost you 70.
It'll cost you double for a [? twos op. ?]
We've got black girls, Asians, fatties, big tits.
Smashing?
I'll do you half price.
Looking for a customer of yours.
Black guy.
You're gonna have to do better than that, love.
We got quite a few of them in here, you know.
His name's Karnage.
I'm sure you know him.
He's a regular.
Never heard of him.
You sure about that?
Yeah.
Hey, honey.
I make 350 a night.
You think I'm gonna risk all that for a lousy 100?
This here, you see this girl?
She was murdered.
This little girl here, raped.
This little sweetheart, raped and murdered.
Now, the guy we're looking for is responsible for all that.
You really wanna protect a pedophile?
A fucking child murderer?
Give me his fucking address, she mouthy cunt.
[writing]
That's it.
That's where he lives.
Thank you for your help.
Hey, you better catch that sick bastard.
We will.
Gowdy, Newmyer and Anderson, [inaudible] me in 15 minutes.
Give me back those photos.
"Raped and murdered?"
That's my fucking niece, mate.
Oh, grow you, fucking mug
Fuck you.
Right, listen up.
Some yardie called Karnage is knocking out
discount Euro guns.
[inaudible] contact has confirmed
that he's selling exactly the kind of shit that
got used in Plush nightclub.
We're gonna pay him a little visit
and see what he can tell us.
Do we have a warrant?
No, we're gonna use my contact, some dumb crackhead
called Crikkit.
So pay attention.
Crikkit walks up to the front door,
asking if he can buy crack.
We hang back.
When the deal is done, we make our move.
Karnage gets busted for supplying
class A. We ask him a few questions
and we get to search the house.
Got it.
Some of all these yardies like to season their bullets
with garlic, cat shit, pig's blood, you name it.
If the bullet doesn't kill you, the infection will.
Now, this is a no-go area.
Locals aren't too fond of us in this part of town,
and I'm guessing our man won't be too friendly either.
Who that?
It's Crikkit, yeah.
Come on, man.
Open up.
I need some food, isn't it?
Are you for real, [inaudible] boy?
It's 11:30 in the morning.
Fuck off!
Oh, come on, man.
Don't go fucking about.
Open the door, man.
I need a little bit.
I don't give a fuck!
[inaudible] my yard.
[inaudible] Move from me door.
Me don't want nothing from you!
All right, what's a good time to come back?
Let me tell you--
[shouting]
Get away from the fucking door!
[reggae music playing]
[gasping]
Police, don't move!
Jesus Christ.
Do not fucking move!
Get your fucking hands where I can see 'em!
Shut your noise, you stupid cunt.
Is everyone OK?
Anderson?
Yeah.
Good.
Newmyer.
Fine.
Ed?
Yeah, I'm good.
Anderson, on your feet.
I want you outside.
Seal off the area.
Make contact with the local police unit.
You two, check the house.
I wanna know what in it was worth dying for.
[groaning]
What you hiding in here, boy?
Fuck off!
Sold any guns in the last couple of days?
[shouting]
I asked you a fucking question, you mongrel!
Now, fucking answer me!
We don't know nothing about no pussy [inaudible]
[vomiting]
Blood, what you want?
We're looking for a MAC-10 and a 357 magnum.
Had me.
Sold me one of each.
Who to?
Ow!
[inaudible] Pushy!
Pushy?
Me and my man, we spoke the other night.
Who's my man?
Who the fuck are you talking about?
Too Fine.
We've hit the fucking jackpot, Andy.
There's gotta be four kis of coke in here.
There's a shitload of guns in one of the bedrooms.
A real fucking arsenal.
Four kilos?
We'll do him for the guns and one kilo.
Go and find [inaudible].
Tell him we got three kis for sale.
He can have 'em for 20 grand a ki, but only
if he takes the fucking lot at once.
Fucking on it.
And walk this fucking loser through what he's got to say.
You don't wanna know what's upstairs.
Now, if you wanna survive your first night in jail,
I suggest you listen to everything
I'm about to say very fucking carefully.
For the record, I'm supposed to say "congratulations."
That's the biggest bust we've had this year.
36 firearms, a kilo of cocaine, and two bodies in a bath tub.
So, once again, for the record, congratulations.
You can go now, Haines.
Sir.
You wanna know what I've got to say off the record?
Ned's story.
So you were tailing some small time
crackhead with no record of serious violence or gun crime.
Of course you were.
And he just happened to wanna buy crack
from this man's front door?
Tell me something, White.
And you be very careful about how you answer this.
Do I look like a cunt?
Well, do I?
Because that's what you're taking me for.
The story is correct, Captain.
That is not the question I asked you.
The question I asked you was "do I look like a cunt?"
I'm not sure how to answer that question, sir.
Well, let me help you.
I don't think you were taking that crackhead at all.
I reckon you got him to go around that house
so you could explore a loophole and get inside,
because you didn't have sufficient grounds
for a warrant.
Is that a fact?
No, that's conjecture.
But let me give you a fact, detective.
If you'd done a background check,
you would have seen that young Mr. Karnage already
had two strikes on possession and supply of firearms.
Now, do you think a man like that is gonna come quietly?
No,
Sir.
No, sir.
If you'd bothered to do your job properly,
I wouldn't have seven yardies and some poor crackhead
in the morgue, not to mention the two cunts in the bath tub.
That's fuck all to do with me.
I mean, what do have you given me, detective?
I think I've given you a fucking result.
You had no reason for being there.
How do I get it through to you?
You knock down the door at number 10
and find the prime minister sniffing coke
off a child's nuts, you can't do him anything
without a valid warrant.
Our story is correct, captain.
So you keep saying.
But you gotta get more creative, White.
At least let me face the press with a pack of lies
that sounds vaguely credible, lies
that let me sleep at night.
Anyway, that was off the record.
So, once again, for the record, congratulations
on a job well done.
Now, fuck off out of my office.
[radio playing]
(SINGING) Just another day brushing off my shoulders.
'Cause I got bills to pay.
I gotta keep it rolling.
Responsibilities.
This life has got me stressing.
Nowhere to run.
Nowhere to hide.
I've got to stay inside.
So what can I do for you?
I thought we could settle up.
Here's what I owe you.
It's all there.
Plus the extra 30%, like I promised.
You sold a kilo already?
I can be very persuasive.
Yeah, with a body like that, I'm not surprised.
Do you wanna make some more money?
Now, there's a stupid question.
I don't ask stupid questions.
I wanna buy more weight off you.
I'll take everything you got.
(RAPPING) I'm a ghetto kid, so why the ghetto shit?
I dunno what happened.
It's just what the ghetto did.
I wear my trousers low almost near my knees.
And everywhere you go--
Forget the colt. That's a pimp's gun.
Where you gonna get the ammo for that?
Stick with the nine.
We'll take these two.
(RAPPING) I'm a ghetto kid.
Well, you working for me now, yeah?
I'm not gonna work here now.
We're working together.
You have to look after man [inaudible]..
I hear that.
Let's deal with the man, then, proper, rasta, and everything
cool.
What do you take me for?
I just let the man then know, yeah.
What we've got is fucking [inaudible]
You can start with this.
We're gonna need some muscle.
[inaudible] organize a meeting with some tally boys
from [inaudible].
They got money, but they can't be trusted.
Yeah, I'm on it.
I'm on it.
Hey, Beefy.
Hey, blood.
It's Rage.
How you doing?
Yeah?
How would you like to be doing a whole lot better?
Oh, man, forget dull work.
It's time for you to diversify and shit.
What you need is a change of scenery.
Yeah.
And a pay Increased What do you take me for?
"Can I afford it?"
You better fucking believe it, blood.
Oh yeah, and bring that big hench nigger
with the attitude along too.
You know, what's his name?
Kramer, man.
Kramer.
Hey, count all that shit, boy.
You know how these Asians be going [inaudible]
(RAPPING) I'm a ghetto kid.
I'm just a ghetto kid.
I'm from the ghetto, half an hour
from the suburbs where the food's white,
just like flour in the cupboards.
Kids with more heat than a high-powered oven.
Rowdy youngins that are so proud to be stubborn.
They asking in the hood when my album is coming.
I'm like, I ain't changed one bit.
Yo, Pushy, there's that little punk, Stitchy.
Refresh my memory, blood.
Bruv, he's had near three ounces off us,
and he ain't paid me for shit.
The prick keeps [? macking ?] my phone calls.
Can you fucking believe that shit?
Yeah?
Watch this.
[chuckling]
I can't believe you just did that, bruv.
Shit, better fucking believe that, blood.
Don't play me for no punk.
He's dead.
Is he dead, bruv?
Fuck me.
[chuckling]
Fuck that prick.
Let's go get something to eat.
Yeah, I wanna eat.
Let's go and get some fucking pizza, man.
Fucking pizza, yeah.
What you got for me?
I did a background check on the name "Pushy."
His real name is James Baker.
He was a football hooligan back in the day.
He ran with [inaudible] Turn the page.
Nice.
So he gave up being a [inaudible]
and became a drug dealer.
Possession with intent reduced to misdemeanor.
Another GBH, ABH, more fucking drugs charges.
Known associates include Maurice Ravel, AKA, Too Fine.
Shit, that's fucking dynamite, Ed.
Look at this.
What the fuck is this, three wankers
posing with water pistols?
It's a demo CD for a rap group called "Time Served."
Today's cunts are all the fucking same, ain't they?
"I got a gang. bitches.
You keep your hands off my motherfucking money."
All these fucking clowns need is a good dose of Frank Sinatra.
Yeah, right.
You recognize him?
Oh yeah.
Who are the other two?
It just gets better.
Jason Crocker, AKA, Finny.
He had an underground club here with some jungle outfit called
"25 to Life" back in '96.
They got killed in a drive-by.
Six months later, he's been picked up for armed robbery.
He served five out of 15.
He's kept his nose clean since he's been out.
That one's John Price, AKA, Rage.
A nasty little bastard.
He did time with Too Fine in the young offenders,
and he's been busted for all kinds of shit.
Drugs, car theft, threatening behavior,
carrying a concealed weapon.
Nice
They've all got sordid connections with Too Fine.
Those are three very dodgy-looking bastards
right there, Andy.
And like you said, Plush Nightclub is a three man job.
Looks like De La Soul was right.
Three is the magic fucking number.
You wanna bring 'em in, get Karnage up on the stand?
Nah, I'm not bringing these assholes in on gun charges.
That'd be doing 'em a favor.
They're going down for murder, plain and simple.
What do you wanna do?
I'm gonna have Anderson and Newmyer shadowing
these boys night and day.
We just wait for 'em to slip up, which, by their very nature,
is fucking inevitable.
Here, have a look at the menu.
The captain's bringing down a lot of heat.
I say we [inaudible] for a few weeks.
Let's just let things calm down a bit, hey?
Pushy's got everything locked down.
We're gonna drive down to Bristol for the meet tomorrow.
Learn
Would you do me a favor, then?
What's that?
It's 9:00 in the evening.
Leave early.
He can talk with us tomorrow.
OK.
Then we're gonna down to [inaudible] a bit later.
Some new grimy club Rage has been hollering about.
You wanna join him?
No.
No, I really don't.
Stay with me.
We can get a few rounds in .
OK, Hope.
Whatever you want.
I'll tell you what I want.
I want us to imagine a few things.
For the rest of the night, I wanna
pretend that you and I are just two regular people out
on a date, like any other young couple.
On a date?
You don't wanna go on a date with me?
[inaudible]
Whichever you prefer.
I know you care about me, Finn.
Of course I do.
We gotta watch each other's backs.
That's not what I meant.
I've seen the way you look at me.
What do you want me to say, Hope?
You're a good friend.
Just a good friend?
I don't believe you.
You were never a good liar, Finn.
Not to me.
What do you want me to say?
Just tell me the truth.
If we were out on a date tonight,
what would you say to me?
I'd say you look good.
You're gonna have to do a lot better than that.
I'd say you beautiful.
And then?
I ain't gonna help you no further.
If you can't say what I know, then I
guess I must be wrong about you.
Oh, forget it.
Game over.
I'm out of here.
Hope, sit down, please.
You really want me to say it?
You're right.
There's times when I see you as more than just a friend.
Fuck.
That was harder than I thought.
So what about those drinks, then?
Forget them.
Let's get out of here.
How long have you known I felt this way about you?
As long as you have.
Say you love me again.
You know I do very much, Hope.
Say it again.
I love you.
Say you'll protect me.
I'll protect you, Hope.
Say it again.
I'll protect and I love you.
Say it again.
And again.
[moaning]
(SINGING) Some of them boys fill up with jealousy,
because none of them boys, [inaudible] bow down boys,
'cause we're coming through.
Here you are, blood.
Hope said that this crew wanna take a whole ki, now,
just for starters.
And if they like what they got, they're
gonna come back for only more.
Hey, how long does it take to get to Bristol?
Only about an hour and a half.
Maybe two, blood.
But we'll reach it.
You just sit tight, Rage, yeah?
Me and Finn is gonna go in and do the deal, yeah?
I ain't taking no chances, you know.
After five minutes, if we ain't out,
I want you to just blow up my mobile.
Anyhow we don't answer, just come in spraying up the place.
You got that, Rage?
Yeah, I got that, blood.
Yeah.
Something's not right about this.
They're doing, what, 65?
That's not against the rules.
That's the thing.
Even that old dear in the middle lane is pushing 80.
It's too conspicuous.
When three spoons are obeying the speed
limit in a tinted VR6, you can bet they're
doing it for a fucking reason.
Fuck.
I think we're being followed, blood.
What the fuck are you talking about?
Look, man, inside lane, three cars back.
Been on us since Hammersmith.
Man, you gotta stop smoking.
You're prang.
Shut the fuck up.
Who's on prang?
Got enough shit in this car to put us for for 15 to 20,
you know.
And that's if the judge is in a good mood.
And And if I ain't sniff Mrs. Judge's pussy the night before,
we're going down for 30 to life.
Just pull out into the middle lane and speed up to about 80.
If he's following us, then we'll know.
Shit, I think they clocked us.
You wanna stay on 'em?
Yeah, there's something wrong about that car.
You mark my fucking words.
Oh fuck.
You see?
I told you.
Congratulations, you're right.
What do you want, a fucking reward?
Who do you reckon it is, the fucking boy, then?
How the fuck do I know?
Just get off at the next exit.
Boy, I don't know, you know, Finny man.
Just fucking do it.
Last chance to back off.
Fuck that.
We're staying on 'em.
Get off here.
Fuck.
They're still on us, you know.
What the fuck are we gonna do?
I'm too fucking pretty to go to prison, I swear.
You know what they think of people like me in prison.
I'm fucked.
I swear, I'm fucked!
Take the next exit on this roundabout, man.
If he's still on us, then we'll know for sure.
Yo, fuck!
They gotta be feds, blood.
No other cunt is this persistent.
What the fuck are we gonna do?
All right, all right, all right, man.
Just relax, relax.
Cool down.
Fucking take me.
Go, go, go, go, go, go!
Drive, man!
I told you.
They sure as fuck don't wanna see us today.
They're gaining on us, blood.
Keep going!
Fuck this shit, blood.
This is Detective Newmyer, Metropolitan vehicle 178,
in pursuit of suspect along the B6 off exit 3.
Suspect traveling at 60 miles per hour
in a black Golf Volkswagen VR6 Registration number-- kilo
673 state, whiskey, November, kilo.
Requesting backup.
Blood, you ain't losing him!
You're driving us [inaudible]
Just fucking chill, blood!
[radio chatter]
Step on it, blood.
This wag can do 150.
Yo, blood, I know how to fucking row, yeah?
Show it to these punks, now, go, go!
Suspect headed westbound down the A404 towards junction 6.
Maintaining a speed of approximately 120 miles
per hour.
Over.
Suspect turned left onto the B46.
I need that air support yesterday.
Oh fuck!
There's a bird on us, blood!
India 99.
We have a visual on suspect's vehicle.
Over.
India 99, come in, please.
Maintaining position over suspect's vehicle.
Over.
Just shut the fuck up!
Finny, what are we gonna do, Blood?
What are we gonna do?
OK, turn off the road, man.
Turn off the road.
We'll lose 'em here.
Turn, turn!
Oh, fuck, missed 'em!
India 99, we're gonna double back.
Stay on 'em.
Over.
Understood.
Over.
India 99, where are you?
Over?
Heading east.
[inaudible] suspect vehicle.
Over.
Go, go, go, go!
What the hell are you doing?
Drive the car straight, man!
Fucking hell, Pushy.
You're trying to kill us.
Shut up, blood.
I got it under control!
[inaudible]
Fuck!
Crash, crash.
Suspect vehicle has crashed.
Over.
Understood.
Over.
[inaudible] cunts have crashed the motor.
Maintaining position.
Suspects exiting vehicle.
Over.
Oh man.
Pushy, they're fucking circling us, man!
Get 'em!
[inaudible]
Quit it.
Finny, don't fucking follow me!
Police, do not fucking move!
Suspect heading due south.
Over.
[radio chatter]
[helicopter flies overhead]
Are you all right?
Get away from the fucking car!
Move, move, move!
Today's your lucky day, bruv!
Fuck me, man!
Pull the fuck over!
Get off the car, pig, pig!
Get off the car!
Pull over, pull the fuck over!
Get the fuck off the car!
Get off the fucking car!
Stop the fucking car!
Get out of the fucking car.
Get the fuck out of the car right now!
Now, stay still, or I'll give you a fucking good shoeing.
Fuck you, pig!
What did I fucking tell you?
[helicopter flies overhead]
You're lovely, fucking lovely.
You're a special guy.
It takes a special kind of fucking asshole to crash
two car in as many minutes.
Fancy packaging.
Dutch, is it?
I wanna make a phone call.
And what are you gonna say?
"I'm black.
The cops framed me."
"They switched my bag of caster sugar for a kilo of coke."
Of course, we did.
Because you was on your way to [inaudible] it to the fucking
Mars Bar factory.
Yeah, it makes perfect sense.
I mean, why would a large industrial chocolate factory
want to buy more than one kilo of sugar at a time
from a shady-looking cunt like you.
Hope you'll forgive the misunderstanding.
You're forgiven when I get to make my phone call.
Hold your tongue, or I'll rip it out,
you spineless lump of fucking shit!
Say one more word, cunt!
I fucking dare you!
Do you wanna hear a story?
Actually, you ain't got a choice.
You're hearing it anyway.
A little while ago, there was a brutal gangland slaying
down in Plush Nightclub.
Must have read about it in the paper.
Of course you didn't need to spend 40 pence on a daily
to find this out.
'Cause you was there.
Yes, you were.
I don't give a fuck that two crack-cocaine dealers
got gunned down in a nightclub.
I really don't.
Cunts like you might get me out of bed in the morning,
but you don't inspire me to do any fucking overtime.
I'll tell you what does.
A young woman got caught in the crossfire that night.
She were gunned as if she was part of the furniture.
She died in her hospital bed two hours ago.
Her kid's in care now.
Only God knows who she'll end up calling "mommy."
Fine.
She's a nobody, right?
Just a casualty of street war.
Tell him how much trouble he's in, detective,
and watch his gormless fucking expression change.
One kilo of fairly fucking average cocaine, 15 to 20.
Possession of an illegal weapon, another 10.
Assault on a police officer, resisting arrest,
that's several more.
Now, driving like a fucking asshole
and breaking just about every traffic code we have a law for,
that's another six.
I'm sure we could pin a whole load of other unsolved shit
on you too.
Bottom line is, you're fucked.
Of course, Detective Haines here, he's
just going by the book.
Maybe I'll let you serve a lot less time.
Reason being, is I'll go and sell
a little bit of this coke on the streets, so the family
[inaudible] with the proceeds.
And then whatever's left over after that
will be spent hiring a son of a bitch
to whack you in your prison cell not two days after the court
case is over.
Look into my fucking eyes, son.
Tell me if there's any part of what I'm saying that you're not
taking seriously.
I wanna talk to my lawyer.
A lawyer ain't gonna help you.
You ain't OJ fucking Simpson.
The only way you're getting out of this is through me.
What do you want?
We want a witness for Plush Nightclub.
We want a lot more than that.
You're gonna give us the names of every dealer you know,
every deal that's gone down, every deal that's
about to go down.
I want ins and outs from the firms you're dealing with.
I want a statement for the murders
of Chronic and Chosen One.
I want it all.
You give me everything-- and I mean, every fucking thing,
and I'll see what I can do about cutting you some sort of deal.
No fucking way, man.
Look at me, you silly cunt.
You have a chance to do two things--
reduce sentence and clear your conscience.
Because your fucking firm is finished.
Finny.
So what happened, blood?
I got the nonsmoker.
That's what happened.
Them boy done chased me for fucking miles, man.
You boys are lucky.
'Cause right now, my lungs feel like they've
been through a cheese grater.
Maybe we're just faster than you, Finn.
You win a race, Rage?
Shut the fuck up.
So what, blood?
How the fuck you get away?
I latched a car from some fallen fucking [inaudible]..
So where's the food, blood?
Gone.
Fuck you mean the food's gone?
I lost it in the chase.
I must have dropped.
You-- you dropped it?
Fucking idiot!
You know how much that's gonna cost?
Fuck you, Pushy.
I almost got shot.
You wanna blame someone?
You was the one that mashed up the ride.
Huh?
Yeah?
Remember you, running like some scat with a pussy out the door?
Yeah, and I got clean away, blood.
You drop a ki, you know, you're supposed
to go back for that shit.
I had the fucking feds up my ass.
If I'd stopped for a breath, they would have been on me.
How about you boys give him a fucking break, eh?
Fuck you, bitch.
What, you're back him now 'cause you're grinding him?
Nah, he fucked up good and proper!
You all fucked up.
I gave you a simple task.
Go down to Bristol, deliver a ki, get paid, come back.
If it was that fucking simple, Hope, why the fuck you
didn't go?
Yeah, you, you, fuck you.
I'm out of here.
[clicking]
You're batting.
Yeah?
Yeah, man, it's me.
Open up.
Yeah, I wanna buy some tings off you, boy.
Who this?
It's Camelot, you silly cunt.
Open up.
You've won the fucking lottery.
It's the feds, get out of here!
Get the fuck out!
You gonna open this fucking door or not?
If you don't open this fucking door,
I'm gonna smash the fucking [? cunty ?] thing in!
Police, police!
You're under arrest!
Get on the ground, get on the ground!
Don't move!
Do not fucking move!
Get your hands on the floor!
Face down!
Hands behind your back, behind your back!
Stop right there!
Stop, stop!
Take that fucking off.
Let me see your fucking face!
Give me what I fucking want.
Do you wanna fucking die?
Don't tell me you're fucking [inaudible]
Hold tight, boys.
Hey, get him off.
It's 'cause he's fucking black!
It's 'cause he's popping fucking rocks!
Back up!
Get the fuck out of my face!
You're fucking nicked.
Back the fuck up.
Back the fuck up!
I'll pop your fucking head open, son!
Play your fucking game, lads.
Play your fucking game.
Police!
On the ground!
Give me your other hand.
Give me your other hand!
Don't move or I will fire!
Clear!
Our city's in a fucking rich pussy hole.
David Brumby.
Yeah?
You're under arrest.
Back off, boys.
You're coming in too.
Yeah?
Fucking says who?
Says me, you fucking mongo.
Now, back the fuck off.
Yeah, well, fuck you, back me off.
You're a long fucking way from Essex, boys.
We do things a bit different in this fair city.
Yeah?
I gave you a chance, and you just fucked me it up.
Now, get back against the fucking wall.
Get up against the wall.
You're both under arrest.
These pit bulls with you, Brumby?
Don't look at me, officer.
I can't control them any more than you can.
Get on your feet, you stupid cunt.
You just bought yourself another year for resisting arrest.
Really?
I'll be out by this evening.
Well, if that's the case, at least I fucked up
your lunch now, haven't I?
Turn around.
Hands behind your backs.
He said, turn the fuck around!
Police, don't fucking move!
Get your fucking hands where I can see 'em!
What the fuck you looking for?
You ain't gonna find nothing here!
Sit down, you silly black cunt.
Hey, Rage, just chill, blood.
What?
So what, you got a fucking warrant, pig?
You better believe it, cunt.
What did you just fucking call me?
I said, "you got a fucking warrant, pig?"
Yeah, go on.
Mark me.
Mark my face and my lawyer can fuck you up.
Ugh!
That fucking mark you, now, will it?
So let me guess, you didn't find nothing, yeah?
See, you ain't got shit on me, blood.
Now, just let me have my phone call.
You let me bring my lawyer down here.
The boy is a fucking monster.
When he's done with you, you'll be kissing my ass in court.
You'll be begging me for respect.
You know, you're right.
We didn't find anything.
We didn't need to.
You're already fucked.
Well and truly fucked.
What are you talking about?
You, my friend, are going down for triple murder.
This is bullshit, man.
Plush Nightclub.
You did it.
Says who?
Says me.
I got alibi.
Yeah, and I got a witness, you smug fuck.
You're just bluffing, man.
This is shit.
Look at me.
Tell me if I would get you down here just to play poker.
Tell him about the witness.
That's right, fucker.
He saw you do the whole thing.
He's gonna stand up in court and point you out.
He's looking forward to it.
Just bring my lawyer down here, yeah?
Yeah?
You can call him now.
For all the good he's gonna do you,
you might as well call in the fucking Queen inside.
Maybe she can hook you up with some kind of royal pardon.
Come on, Ed.
Let's get the fuck out of here.
Yeah, we've got everything we need off this prick.
Just let me have phone call and bring down my lawyer!
[phone ringing]
Who is this?
It's me, Push.
Pushy, what the fuck is going on?
Look, don't talk.
Just listen, yeah?
Feds took me and Rage off-road.
Said they're charging us with the Plush Nightclub shooting.
Yeah, said they got themselves a witness.
Block Back right up there if you think I've got anything
to do with this, Pushy.
Look, I know you don't.
But trust me, I know somebody that does.
Who?
Where's Finny?
Well, he's just left here.
He's gone-- no way.
No fucking way.
We was wearing motorbike helmets, Hope.
No one else could have seen us.
Yeah, he's the only one that can put us
at the scene of the crime.
He's the only one that didn't get taken off road.
Finny ain't no fucking grass.
He ain't gonna roll over on you and your boy, for fuck's sake.
Well, they must have got to him.
What does the little kid think?
How the fuck-- how the fuck should I know?
They got us separated.
I'm not convinced.
Look, me and Rage are sitting here,
staring down the barrel of three life sentences apiece.
Why the fuck should we take the chance?
I reckon he's [inaudible] bullshit.
No way he got away from the feds.
The boy's a fucking pussy and a grass.
If he's already given us up, how long you think
it is before he drops you in for blazing Temper?
You've got it wrong.
He'd never do that to me.
Yeah?
Maybe not him.
But me, I ain't afraid to talk, you know.
If that's my only option.
Don't make me have to do this.
You know how it works.
If they ain't got no witness, they
ain't got no case against us.
Hope.
Hope, you best bee listening to me now.
Trust me for your own fucking good.
Well, go and get your stuff together, Hope.
We gotta get you out of here.
What are you talking about?
We gotta get your stuff packed.
Where are we going?
Finn?
There's no time to explain.
We're got to get out of here.
Everyone's been arrested.
Do you wanna be next?
What do you wanna run away for?
It's over, Hope.
Rage and Pushy are on the inside now.
We-- we gotta get out of the city.
You know what I'm thinking?
Reckon the old bulls got themselves an informer.
What are you talking about?
What have you done, Finny?
It's not what you think.
I had no choice.
What really happened yesterday, Finny.
Tell me the truth.
I sprinted, Hope.
I ran as fast as I could, but--
But?
It was this young cop.
He wouldn't give up.
It wasn't the car crash that broke my nose.
It was him.
What happened?
What do you mean, what happened?
I got driven off the road and knocked down by the boys.
And they knew everything, Hope.
Everything.
All they needed was a little cast-iron proof,
a bit of evidence.
Or a witness.
I wasn't gonna turn in court.
That's why I wanted to leave town with you.
Too late for that.
The damage was already done when you opened your big fucking
mouth.
I told the boydem what they wanted to hear, Hope.
I had to get out of there.
You mean nothing to me now.
Grasses ain't worth loving.
I can't even look at you.
For what it's worth, I never told 'em a thing about you.
[thunk]
[screaming]
[banging]
[sobbing]
What you got for me?
Yeah, some jogger on an early morning run
called us when he saw blood leaking out
the back of this car.
Found something in the boot.
Thought it might interest you.
Have a look.
Jesus Christ, you got me up here to see that?
Who the fuck is it?
Well, I'm not sure.
Saw him down at the station with you and Detective Haines
last night.
That's why I called you first.
Have a look.
You gotta be taking the fucking piss.
You gotta be taking the fucking piss!
Don't fucking touch me!
Bottom line-- can you get them on anything else?
We've run the number plate.
Car was stolen in Chelsea a couple of weeks ago.
Doesn't look like we're gonna get any good prints off it.
We can do a few of the little fish.
Possession with intent.
Maybe get something to stick.
But as for the shootings, don't have anything.
If you don't have a witness, you don't have a case.
Looks like you got no choice.
You're gonna have to let them go.
To
On your feet.
You're getting out of here.
What they got going, it ain't nothing.
You know what it mean?
Aw, man!
Listen.
Officers, right, thanks for everything.
Yeah, and you're sure you don't want my statement or nothing?
Oh, I'm sorry about that-- that waitress, you know?
That-- that shit just breaks my heart, man.
[laughing]
Come on up for a drink, man.
I'll tell you everything.
I told you you wouldn't be able to hold me, didn't I?
So what happened?
Your grass lost his balls, did he?
I don't suppose you'd like to tell me who it was, would you?
Yeah, thought not.
Anyway, I'll see you later.
Go clear up the rest of the paperwork.
I've gotta catch up on something.
[phone ringing]
What?
Yeah, job well done, girl, job well done.
You in the clear?
Yeah, we're on the outside now, sister.
Me and Rage are coming over to celebrate.
You know what I mean?
What did you just fucking say to me?
Look, we're back in business, girl.
Not with me, you ain't.
And if you think I'm celebrating your release,
then you're sorely mistaken.
I don't condone what I did to get you out.
You got a point to make, Hope?
Don't come around my yard.
Not now, not ever.
And let me impart a little friendly advice to you.
Get the fuck out of my end, Pushy.
That goes for Rage too.
Don't make me come looking for you, pretty boy.
Hope just needs time to just cool off, blood.
You know how skits be getting all emotional and shit.
I don't know, man.
I say we leave her alone.
Fuck that bitch, man.
There's gonna be some changes around here, you know.
I tell her to jump, she better ask me how high.
Start a beef with me, there's only gonna be one winner.
Come on, pass me the spliff, man.
You should have seen the look on the boydem's face, you know,
when they told me the witness had disappeared.
Blood, I'd have given a Polaroid for that moment, you know.
It's Finny you're talking about, blood.
Yo, don't get stuck on names and all.
A name just complicates shit!
Forget him.
He was gonna have us fucking buried.
So what do we do now?
I tell you what we're gonna do.
We're gonna go over to Lamberth and get
skit, some busts, some crystal.
[thunder rumbling]
[dogs barking]
Yeah.
Gone ahead and cut that grass for you.
You sure you mowed the whole lawn?
Don't you worry about a thing.
That's good to know.
I won't forget it.
You can consider the blind eye well and truly turned.
(SINGING) Rise to the occasion.
Look at yourself and say you're strong.
No one can stop you.
Oh yeah.
Rise to the occasion.
Go ahead.
You know you're strong.
No one can stop you.
It's for you to make the best in life
now that you got the chance.
Get up and step towards your goal.
It's all right.
Fulfill your needs and wants.
You to make the best in life now that you got the chance.
Get up and step towards your goal.
It's all right.
Yeah, yeah.
Some people read and meditate.
I just move scanty yo.
Some people are conscious about life.
Others are still panting, yes.
Some people like strong drink cold,
like champagne and brandy.
Babies love ice cream and cake and cotton candy, yo.
I love herbs and girls, good words, roots and mashanti, yo.
Girls love clothes, and shoes, going to school brand new
and mean spanking, yo.
Yet we all need education, because that's the damn thing,
yo.
All things fade, leaving it standing.
It's for you to make the best in life
now that you got the chance.
Yo, don't lie.
Pussy don't try.
[inaudible] our war cry.
And the all the while we ask for the strength to get by.
When you hear the bullets whistle,
we call it the war cry.
Don't lie.
Pussy don't try.
[inaudible] war cry.
And all the while we ask for the strength to get by.
When you hear the bullets whistle,
we call it the war cry.
[inaudible] for cash.
And I always had a ratchet I was quick to flash.
First dropped my hustle running off an ounce of hash.
Now I'm grown.
I do big things.
I bang the mash.
For real.
[inaudible] I'm off the grid, a corner.
I'm a pretty motherfucker to find a bowler.
You think we're nice, but still I
warn you, if you ever come to test me,
I got something for you.
Listen.
[click] Means the war is coming, and it's really ragamuffin
that we don't know nothing.
I'm afraid if the rapping don't pay
[inaudible],, yo, back to the road, we got gats to blaze,
you know?
Yo, don't lie.
Pussy don't try.
[inaudible] our war cry.
And all the while we ask for the strength to get by.
When you hear the bullets whistle,
we call it the war cry.
Yo, don't lie.
Pussy don't try.
[inaudible] our war cry.
And all the while we ask for the strength to get by.
When you hear the bullets whistle,
we call it the war cry.
Yo, I did the crime, served the time.
Now I'm out, back on the road.
The world is mine.
Used to push the pen and slam the cracks.
Now I'm hear pushing the pen and slinging the reps.
Don't get it twisted, though.
We got the gats.
And we don't tit for tat with tit for bluh.
And you don't need it, but we do think, believe it.
We don't just stay drunk and weeded.
Although we get drunk and weeded,
then we keep up fuck for the when the time comes
we're gonna need it.
This ain't Compton, blood.
We're straight out of London.
From Brixton to Junction, which is how we function.
We hate feds and beat the police with their own truncheons.
Time Served, the group number 1 with gangsta productions.
We rolling with knives.
We holding the heat.
Rage, Too Fine, and Finny, we controlling the streets.
We shot the many mens on many ends on the market supply,
so don't you rap with these masters in the ghetto war cry.
Yo, don't lie.
Pussy don't try.
[inaudible] And all the while we ask for the strength to get by.
When you hear the bullets whistle,
we call it the war cry.
Yo, don't lie.
Pussy don't try.
[inaudible] our war cry.
And all the while we ask for the strength to get by.
When you hear the bullet whistle,
we call it the war cry.