Power Book III: Raising Kanan (2021–…): Season 2, Episode 2 - Mind Your Business - full transcript

Previously, on
"Raising Kanan"...

We the only game
in town now, Kanan,

just us,

and we got shit on lock.

All you have to do
is sign in each session,

and then you can leave.

Either you sit down,

or I can let the court know

that you violated probation.

My child was murdered!

I know powerful people.



So you believe him when he
says he doesn't remember

anything from the night
he was shot?

You're Famous' manager
all the time.

When are you just
gonna be my girl?

Got a job for you.

That shit's waitin' on you

but not for too much longer.

I saw Worrell
up the block slingin'.

Yeah, we tried
to kill that nigga.

He tried to kill me.

Bring his ass in
for a conversation.

And, Scrap,
I need you to ease up

on throwin' them dice.

Police! Let me see your hands!
Get 'em up!



I got a CI bellyachin'
in interrogation two.

Couldn't believe
my fuckin' ears

when I heard you might
be getting released soon.

When we met,
what'd I tell you, huh?

"Don't ask questions."

I need you right now, okay?
Come on, come on.

Jerome, what's up, man?

Come on.

That cop, he don't remember
nothin' from that night.

Brain all twisted up.

♪ I'm a hustler, baby
I'm a hustler, baby ♪

♪ Yeah, I know
Heartbreaks, setbacks ♪

♪ Bitch, if I crap out
I'm sure I'ma get back ♪

♪ I been through the ups and
Downs, you know I get around ♪

♪ So to me
It's all a part of the game ♪

♪ If I ain't the coke man
Or the dope man ♪

♪ I'm almost for sure, man
I got to take it ♪

♪ No need to say shit
I'm gon' take it ♪

♪ Robberies turned homicide
It's nothin' to play with ♪

♪ Make money
Make, make, make money ♪

♪ When shit hit the fan
We'll take money, South side ♪

♪ Beef with the best of 'em ♪

♪ Done shot
At the rest of 'em, yeah ♪

♪ Checks, I'm collectin' 'em ♪

♪ Check, boy
I'm finessin' 'em ♪

♪ Bag Supreme
Boy, you fuck around ♪

♪ Put a big bag on your head ♪

♪ Before the weather break
You're dead ♪

♪ Let's get to it, they
Don't do it like we do it ♪

♪ Nah, cop it, whip it
Bag it, flip it ♪

♪ Re-up, we up
G'd up, what up? ♪

♪ Runnin' round this bitch
Still not givin' a fuck, hey ♪

♪ When it come to that paper
There'll be no complications ♪

Ha ha. That's right.

♪ Put a hole in a nigga
Right in front of you ♪

♪ Your heartbeat pacin' ♪

♪ And it's all right ♪

♪ That's how
We do it on this side ♪

♪ Niggas get to it
On this side ♪

♪ I know heartbreaks
Setbacks ♪

♪ Bitch, if I crap out
I'm sure I'ma get back ♪

♪ I been through the ups and
Downs, you know I get around ♪

♪ So to me
It's all a part of the game ♪

♪ If I ain't the coke man
Or the dope man ♪

♪ I'm almost for sure, man
I got to take it ♪

♪ No need to say shit
I'm gon' take it ♪

♪ Robberies turned homicide
It's nothin' to play with ♪

♪ Hey, hey ♪

Like I been sayin',

the biggest mistake
any nigga ever make

is gettin' too comfortable,

kickin' they feet up,

takin' that motherfuckin'
victory lap.

'Cause you ain't never safe.

Somebody always out there,
watchin'.

And by the time you see him...

You know that smoking's
bad for you.

...it's already too late.

So's the police.

I can't seem to get that shit
out my life neither.

And if memory serves, nigga,
you gave me my first cigarette.

One of my many mistakes.

What you want, Detective?

Can't lie, Raq.

I thought I was dead.

Laying here, bleedin' out.

I thought my shit was done.

And your whole damn life really
does flash before your eyes.

That shit's real.

I didn't like what I saw, Raq.

Not at all.

I made a deal with God.

Let me live,
I'll right my wrongs.

The kid...

he can't shoot for shit.

Mm, somebody cryin'
about Cochise again.

Shit's the best part
about you, Kanan.

The part that cares.

Don't ever lose that.

And don't let nobody
take that shit from you either.

Shit just a movie, man.
Whatever.

And you, you just
a cryin'-ass bitch.

Yeah. Yeah.
I'ma fuck you up, Laverne.

I ain't afraid
of you, kid, not at all.

You think you got this?

Come on, Juke,
do something!

Come on, Juke!

Aah!

What I want now is what
I've wanted all along...

...for Kanan
to know I'm his father.

Had a gang of admirers
back in the day.

Truth is, I don't even know
who Kanan daddy is.

Truth?

You gotta know the meaning
of the word to use it, Raq.

When I brought Kanan in
for that fight,

son was leakin'

and left some blood behind.

I had the lab
run that shit on the low.

Paternity match...

...came back to yours truly.

And you can bullshit me
all you want,

but you can't
bullshit science, Raquel.

Well, fuck you
and your science, nigga.

He ain't built for that road
you got him on.

I saw that in his eyes
that night.

The game ain't for him.

Now, I ain't gonna knock Kanan
for poppin' me.

I deserved what happened
that night.

Divine justice-type shit.

But I'm way past waitin'
on you to tell him.

That was my big mistake,

trustin' that you would
tell him for me.

I should have done it
from the start,

but I thought it'd be better
if he heard it from you first.

But now I'ma tell him
my damn self.

Man-to-man, father to son.

I'm goin' home.

Somebody tellin', Raq.

You got a snitch.

One-eyed Jack. The gambler.

Scrap?

He workin' with us.

Saw him sittin'
with a detective

at the precinct
the other night.

- Bullshit.
- Real shit.

And I'm only telling you this

'cause I'm trying
to look out for our son.

'Cause that's what parents do,
protect they kids.

Yeah.

Kanan 'bout to know, Raq.

Kanan 'bout to know.

Shit.

Where Famous at?

He here, and he about to get
his ass beat by my ma

if he don't get this skeezer
out the house.

But he don't wanna
hear me, though.

You his friend.
You save his sorry ass.

♪ Champagne 'cause I made it ♪

♪ I'm elevated ♪

♪ Rose from the concrete... ♪

Famous.

♪ I never waited
For my turn... ♪

Nothin'.

Yo, Fame.

Famous.

What the...

Watch this.

Wake the fuck up.

- Mh-hmm. Yeah.
- Fuck!

Fucking squeezin'
my nipples and shit.

Your sister said your mother's
on the way home.

And she about to have your ass.

This bitch gotta go!

I'm gone for three months,

and I come back, you out here
smashing white girls

and getting all high and shit?

Three months is a long time,
man.

Nigga's been maturin' and shit.

Maturin' and shit.
You hear your brother?

♪ Careful with my name ♪

♪ How you mention it... ♪

Yo.

Yo!

Whatever the fuck your name is.
Yo!

You don't even know
what her name is?

Nah, we didn't get to all that.

Oh, shit, nigga, look like
you got into a hell of a lot.

You're a disaster, Famous,
a fuckin' embarrassment.

Don't matter now, though.
Better start packing your shit!

- Shit! No, fuck!
- Whoa.

She's not a ho, Ma.
She's from NYU.

NYU are all hos.

She got locked out of her dorm,

and I was-I was trying
to help her,

make sure she wouldn't
sleep on the street.

I ain't lying, Ma.

...because I know
you stole that money

out of my purse
to buy your drugs.

Ma, you trippin' now.
I ain't even do that!

You know what?

I want you out!

- What?
- Out!

Go find another place
to bring your put as!

Where am I gonna go?
I don't have any money.

I don't know, and I don't care!

I just want you gone, Shawn!

You're gonna kick your own son
out just like that?

For real, Ma?
No second chances, no nothin'?

Ma. Ma!

Ms. Fig.

Fuck.

One thing that all of us

who struggle with anger
have in common are triggers.

Could be someone
cutting you off in traffic.

Could be someone standing
too close to us on the subway.

Could be someone
interrupting us

or-or talking over us.

So tell me,
what are your triggers, hmm?

I don't like being ignored.

When people don't listen to me
or hear me, I get angry.

Feeling unseen.

Is there anyone else here
who gets angry

when they don't feel heard
or acknowledged?

See?

You're not alone, Gerald.

Anybody else wanna share
what triggers their anger?

When people lie, I get pissed.

Too pissed,
even if it's my kids.

No one likes it
when someone lies to them.

But the challenge here
isn't the anger itself

but, rather,
the intensity of the anger.

Everybody hear that?

Anger is not the problem.

Everyone gets angry.

It's how we manage it
that's our challenge.

And what about you, Marvin?

What are your triggers?

Yes, Marvin, you.

I'm straight.
Ain't got no triggers.

I'm good.

You wouldn't be sitting here
with the rest of us

if you were good.

I'm ignoring you, Joe...

...'cause I know
you love that shit.

Fuck you.

Still ignoring you,
motherfucker.

And I ain't seein' you.

I'll kick your ass right here,

right fucking now!

I wish you'd try.

All right, all right,
that's enough.

Let's not lose our heads here.

Or our hair.

Sit down, Gerald.

Yeah, sit down, G.

I'm gonna let you slide
today...

...Marvin,

but you are not off the hook,

not by a long shot.

So getting back
to what triggers us...

Hey, you seen Kanan?

Mm... he over at Famous'.

Well, if you see him before me,

you let him know
I'm looking for him.

Trying to keep better track
of your cousin

now that he's home.

If I see him, I'll tell him.

All right. Thank you, baby.

Um...

...do you...

you remember my mom at all?

Of course.

What you remember about her?

Well, Kenya was a hell
of a good singer,

just like you.

And she gave you that gift.

And then she bounced.

Look... it's a lot, Juke,

being somebody's mother.

I mean...

you bring a baby
into this world, and...

then it's all on you.

Fathers matter.

I mean, I'm not saying
they don't, but...

mothers, we create life.

And that shit
is a lot of responsibility,

and it ain't for everybody.

Not everybody up for the job.

So... that's why my mom
left me.

She wasn't feeling
cut out for the job.

I mean...

...look, I ain't ever
talked to her about it.

But yeah, um...

I mean, I think she knew
that she wasn't cut out

to be a mother.

Figured it was best
if she got out the mix.

I almost understand that.

Maybe even respect it
a little bit.

I can't.

Shit.

I can't neither.

She missed out,

'cause you're incredible.

And I love you.

Come here.

See you later.

For months now,
I have tried very hard

to come up
with a rational explanation

for why you instructed
those officers

to free the person
who murdered my daughter.

I'm sorry for your loss,
Mrs. Bingham. I really am.

But Laverne Thomas
did not murder your daughter.

She gave Nicole the drugs.

She showed her how to use them,

which is no different
than pointing a loaded gun

at my daughter's head
and pulling the trigger.

Look, I've reviewed the case
file,

and there's no evidence
that suggests

that Laverne Thomas
provided the drugs

that killed Nicole Bingham.

What does the mayor say?

Does he have
an opinion on this?

Well, I-I'm not here today
to speak for the mayor.

He told me
that you and your husband

are acquaintances of his,

and he asked me simply
to observe these proceedings.

I want her fired.

She should not be
a police officer.

Our officers often have
informal arrangements

with the people in
the neighborhoods they police,

but I can assure you that
no officer in this department

would protect a suspect
in a murder.

As far as I'm concerned,

you all have my daughter's
blood on your hands.

Thanks for having my back,
Captain.

I'm looking out for the
department, Burke, not you.

You should never have
stuck your nose in this mess.

From where I'm sitting,

looks to me like
you fucked this all up.

Go!

Yo, whoever's
speaking this shit

got it wrong.

Wasn't Scrappy
in that precinct.

Yeah, well, how many
one-eyed motherfuckers

walkin' around
South Jamaica, Lou?

Early Tyler uncle got one eye.

Lost the other shit
in a fight out in Ozone Park.

Yeah, well, Early Tyler uncle
100 years old, in a wheelchair,

and can't feel
the left side of his face.

Actually, that shit's starting

to come back to life
a little bit.

Saw him at the barber
a few weeks back.

Lip was moving a little bit
on the left side.

Scrap ain't no snitch.

You know, a lot of niggas
get caught

behind them cards and dice,

make bets they can't cover.

I told him to stay away
from that shit.

Scrap bled for us, Raq.

He lost his fuckin' eye for us.

Maybe that's why he pissed off
behind that shit.

Look, we not makin'
no decisions yet.

We gonna need to know more.

Marvin, you talk to Scrappy.

Feel him out.

See what he gotta say.

Told my mama
I'm meeting with you all, so...

if I don't walk outta here,

she gonna know it was you.

Well, if we wanted you dead,
you'd be gone already, nigga.

Sit the fuck down.

I mean, fuck it, like,

I'll sleep in-
in the-in the-in the bathroom.

Just throw a blanket
in the tub, like...

We already
got Juke at the house.

Like I-like I said, man,
if it was up to just me,

hell yeah, you could
come stay at the crib.

But my mother not going
for that shit.

She only want family
stayin' at the spot.

Man, I need to get
some fuckin' money, man,

try and stay in a room
for a minute.

What you think about
hustlin' up my mix tapes,

sellin' them shits?

Famous, them shits
didn't move before.

Why the fuck
would they move now?

My lyricism was ahead
of its time, okay?

Heads need to catch
the fuck up.

And you think
they all caught up now?

I'm not tryin' to sleep
on the fuckin' train, a'ight?

All I got to my name
is a bag of funky-ass clothes

and a gang of mix tapes
that we might be able to sell,

unless you got a better idea.

All right, then.

So why y'all
wanna fuck with me?

And why would I
wanna fuck with y'all?

South side ours, Worrell.

I mean, you might be doing
a half day's business

a couple times a week
on one of them tired corners,

but that's about as good
as it's gonna get for you, son.

I mean, you just-you just
picking up our scraps.

But maybe you thinking that now
that 'Nique out the joint,

he gonna pick up
where he left off, right?

That shit gonna get better?

Nah, son.

Your man radioactive.

'Nique shit deader than dead.

Deen ain't gonna sell to him.

Nobody gonna fuck with him.

You steady starvin', nigga.

But you still ain't even answer
my first question.

Why y'all wanna mess with me?

'Cause we got a lot of history
between us,

and ain't none of it good.

History's the past, Worrell.

We here talkin'
about the future.

We know
you a hell of an earner,

that you on your business,

and we feel like...

you could add some value
to what we trying to do.

And you hungry-ass niggas

all runnin' around roughshod
out there,

bumpin' into each other,
breakin' shit...

That noise bring police.

And police bad
for everybody business.

You gonna be under Lou
at our new spot

over at the Forties.

And you good with that?

We ain't datin', nigga.

We workin'.

I said it before,
but now that I'm here,

these shits really feel
like they been warmed over.

That's all I got, man.

Y'all delinquents
robbin' my fuckin' place?

Nah, man. What's up, Uncle Lou?

What's good?

Fame's mother actually
kicked him out the crib.

And he came up here
'cause he think

he might be able to sell
the rest of these tapes,

get some rent money up.

Obviously, he gonna
give you your cut too.

Yo, fuck it.

It's yours.

I already, uh,
wrote the shit off anyway.

Word?

Yo, come here.

You need some new flows, man.

Just like I told your sister,
stop smoking weed.

Put something on paper.

You bring me something good,
then...

I'll put you back
in the studio.

- Word?
- Word is bond.

No doubt.

Peace, Nephew.

Thanks again, Unc.

I put down the traps
and the poison,

but the rats are too many.

Guess I got rat problems
all over right about now.

Throw out the shit
that's been eaten,

and put some more traps down.

I would have to change them
ten times a day.

Call an exterminator, Juliana.

You have all this money
sitting here.

Why don't you spend it?

Now, I save my money
to buy a home

for my family in my country,
and...

you save your money
to be eaten by rats?

Get an exterminator out here.

♪ Smokin' cocaine
With all her friends ♪

♪ Smokin' cocaine
With all her friends ♪

♪ Smokin' cocaine
With all her friends... ♪

Bro, these are jumbos.
Make 'em look like jumbos.

How you livin', Scrap?

Large as fuck, nigga.

Movin' this weight,
makin' this money.

Couldn't raise you last night.

Had a pickup.

I was, uh, helpin' my peoples
out in Corona

put some shit up on the walls.

Yo, who the fuck trustin'

your one eye
to hang up something?

Motherfucker got paintings
up all crooked

and-and-and-and twisted
and shit.

You should've called
the new guy,

Worrell, to help you out
last night.

I'm sure that nigga's
always available.

Word travel fast, yeah?

Especially when heads
hear your peoples

gettin' in the bed
with the same nigga

who cost you
half your fuckin' eyes.

Uh-oh.

Somebody's feelings
gettin' hurt out here.

Ain't about feelings, Marvin.

Shit was bad enough
when Kanan came in.

But I made peace with that.

That's Raq's kid, and, hell,

I actually like
the little nigga.

But y'all givin' Forty Projects
to Unique's boy instead of me?

I been down with y'all niggas
since I was 14!

Lookin' out, baggin',
soldierin', hustlin', cookin'.

Whatever needed to get done,
I done done it!

You know what?

On the real...

...it ain't easy

hangin' pictures with one eye.

Fact, it ain't easy
tyin' my shoes,

seein' street signs,
or doing damn near anything

with one fuckin' eye.

I gave that shit up
for y'all niggas

and still came back swingin'.

But here I am passed
the fuck over for 'Nique's guy?

So who you hangin' pictures for
out in Corona?

Yo, didn't even know
you had peoples out there.

My cousin Ebony.
Fuck does it matter?

Don't matter.

Y'all doing me wrong, Marvin,

and you know this.

Yo, we got you, Scrap.

Don't even trip.

Four bedrooms,
three full baths.

Colonial on a quiet street
in Hollis.

It's a steal at that price.

What about Forest Hills,
Douglas ton, Little Neck?

I think you'll find those
neighborhoods are pricier.

What, it look like
I can't afford them?

Oh, of course not, no.

Sometimes buyers
don't understand

they need to have strong credit

to secure preapproval
for a mortgage from a lender.

- I'm paying cash.
- Oh, wonderful!

Fantastic.

Uh, but just to be clear,

you'll still need
proof of income,

your last two years'
tax returns, at least,

and bank statements.

I got all that.

You just make sure
that you find me a spot

in one of them
pricier neighborhoods

you're talking about.

Yeah?

You, uh, Miss Ebony, right?

Who asking?

New handyman in the area.

Your neighbors up the block
was sayin'

you might got some work
that need doin'.

Sayin' you got your cousin
or somethin'

hangin' pictures and shit.

I don't talk to my neighbors,

and I don't talk
to no cousins neither,

so who the hell are you?

'Cause you don't look like
no handyman to me.

Where your tools
and your work belt?

I don't walk around
with that heavy shit on me.

I'm just saying that, you know,

maybe you-you have some gutters
that need cleanin'

or lines that need flushin'

or paintings that need hanging.

Last shit I put up on my wall
was a Thriller poster.

That was 1982.

Well, if you get a poster
for the new MJ record,

let me know.

Wait, where you goin'?
What's your name?

You got a card?

What type of handyman
drive a Lexus?

♪ You and I together
Till the very end ♪

I just don't hear it.

Then you ain't listenin'.

This girl is the next,
next shit.

She gonna change the game.

- We signing her.
- No. No, we not.

Lou, this a partnership,
a democracy and shit.

That means we-we both
gotta believe in the artist.

What are you listening to?

Seeing as I'm financin'
this fuckin' democracy,

my vote counts
more than yours, correct?

I guess it...

Yes, sir. Yes, sir. Yes, sir!

Cartier "Duns" Fareed.

My man was
a motherfuckin' shootin' star.

Big, bright,
lit up the fuckin'sky.

Had vision beyond the game...

Music, art, uptown, downtown.

His money was so clean,
you could eat off that shit.

Well, if it isn't
Lou-Lou Thomas,

the fast-talkin' pretty nigga

who thinks he can roll up
on my niece at a red light

with all that light-skinned
smoothness of his.

Cartier Fareed is officially
up in the building.

Hey, Zisa, why you ain't
tell me he was your uncle?

I for sure
would've kept driving.

I'm not his niece.

Cartier Fareed.

Crown Camacho.

Cartier Fareed
is in that import-export thing.

He's a top-of-the-food-chain-
type motherfucker, huh?

And I'm still hungry.
Now, look here, niggas.

I'ma make this short, sweet,
and nonnegotiable.

I've got this small
music management group

that I've been evolving slowly
but strategically.

A collection
of carefully curated artists

that I can hone,
train, and guide.

And Zisa here,

she's the cream
of the proverbial crop.

Look, I see you got
a fledgling operation in here,

but it's highly unlikely
that you can give Zisa

the long-term and lucrative
deal that she deserves.

But I know Lou from Lanes

and all the other hot spots
that we hit.

I propose

that we do something that will

be equitable for all sides.

A single deal.

Together,
we will develop, produce,

and release a track for Zisa.

See how it feels.

Feel each other out.

Test the waters, as it may be.

This nigga done?

I'm done, motherfucker.

You said a single deal, right?

Now, that doesn't guarantee

that Zisa stays on our label
if she blows up.

- Crown Camacho.
- Mh-hmm.

Macho time.
You any relation to Hector?

Man, me and that motherfucker,
man,

we done had some wild nights.

This ain't got shit to do
with no Hector.

Well, look, man, maybe we could
build somethin' into the deal.

Certain thresholds get cleared,

we'll sign to the label.

Done.

What the fuck?

Single deal's for suckers, yo.

I said... it's on.

Like Farrakhan.

Yo, I'm tellin' you,
you really need

to check out this fix,

Puerto Rican Famous.

I'm... no, come on.

- It's hot.
- Hey.

Yo, you like music?

Look, I got this dope MC.

You gotta check out
his mix tape, man,

Puerto Rican Famous.

He like the next LL
for real right here.

- Nah, I'm good.
- Look, I'll do two for one.

Two for one.

Three for one.
Come on, now. Gimme somethin'.

I like how you wearin' that.

How you sellin' my shit
three for one?

Three for one,
fucking two for one,

nigga, a hundred for one,

nobody want these shits
right now.

Nigga, I moved a tape.

You traded that
for a hit off a blunt.

What are you boys sellin'?

Just mix tapes, man.

All right, the both of you,
up against the wall.

What the fuck's a mix tape?

It's music.
I'm a fucking rapper.

Hear that? He's a rapper.

Hey, what the fuck
are you doing?

And what's your rap name,
rapper?

- Famous.
- Famous the rapper

is selling his mix tapes
on the corner.

'Cause that's where the best
rappers sell their mix tapes.

Supposed to have
a vendor's license

to sell anything on the street.

But seeing as you two
ain't doing much sellin',

we're gonna let you slide.

Good luck with your rap career,
Famous.

You told me
all I was gonna need to do

was to sign into those classes,
then I could bounce.

This broad tellin' me

I gotta sit through the shit
every fuckin' week.

Uh, some of the instructors

are more willing to play ball
than others.

This one don't give a fuck
about no ball.

I tracked down your friend

who was working
as an informant for the police.

There she is. Toni Deep.

She's engaged to be married to
a dentist out in Westchester.

Ah.

Your bitch does have
some nice-ass teeth.

I mean, they hurt, but...

she left the skin on there.

She lives in Harlem.

Moved back here about three
years ago from Los Angeles.

Divorced twice, no kids.

That's where she live?

A'ight.

You owe me.

Well, try as I might,

I don't remember shit
from that night.

Nothin' at all.

Yeah, and we got
nothing on our end.

The blood on the jacket
we took off of Kadeem Mathis,

street name Unique,

didn't match you or him.

And believe it or not,

his story checks out,
you know?

We got him on camera
at the McDonald's drive-through

at the time of the shooting.

We're not done with him yet.

We still think he knows more
than he's letting on,

but at this point, we can't
even classify him as a lead.

Yeah, but we will make his life
miserable nonetheless.

You know why?

Because I don't need a reason.
Fuck him.

Right now, all we got
is some crackhead

who was high as a fucking kite

who thinks he remembers
seeing a kid

but can't give us
any real description.

We're not giving up, though.
Not even close.

We just wanted to let you know
where things stand.

I appreciate that.

Wish I could help, fellas.

Thank you.

We'll keep you posted.

All right.

That guy's my fuckin' hero.

Yeah.

A fucking NYPD Hall of Famer
right there, huh?

♪ Come a little closer
To me... ♪

Hey.

What's up, Ma?

My fault, I ain't even
see you back there.

Where you been?

Me and Famous had a day.

It probably ain't a bad idea

for you to let me know
where you are,

'cause I'm your mother.

I get worried.

Yeah, I got it.

I just wanna
make sure that you safe.

What's wrong, Ma?

It's nothin'.

Somethin' is up.

A'ight, I know you not just
trying to know where I'm at

on some straight
motherly concern.

Talk to me. What's up?

Just that crazy-ass cop.

Howard.

Somehow, someway,

his brain got all twisted up,
and...

he talkin'
some crazy-ass nonsense,

some shit that don't even
make no sense.

And it's possible that he might
step to you talkin' that shit.

I just wanna
give you a heads-up.

Look, now, he might not
say anything to you at all,

so it's not even worth
getting into right now.

But just know that if he does

that it's just a crazy police
who got his head all dented.

I thought you said
he didn't even remember

what happened that night.

Thought you said he didn't
remember my face, Ma.

- What is this?
- He don't know

what he remembers
or what he forgot, Kanan.

You're good, baby.

I got you.

We good.

No. What I said was
that he could stay here a night

when he got out, that's all.

I'm not keeping Jerome
from his daddy, Ma.

A father provides.

A father works.

A father take care
of their own.

What's he doing
but sitting around here

taking up space,
eating my food?

You know, I don't remember
you complainin'

back when I was payin'
your rent,

buyin' your cars, huh?

Sendin' you and your broke-ass
church friends to AC

every weekend, huh?

But I was a provider then,
right?

Right?

I saw Raq today

at the bodega on Sutphin.

What Raq talkin' about?

She not talkin'
about anything, 'Nique.

She was just...
I mean, she just stared at me.

It scared me...

for all of us...
For me, you, and Jerome.

Raq ain't gonna do nothin'
to us, a'ight?

How do you know?

Look.

I can't say 100-100%
that Scrap bullshittin'...

...but I checked out
his cousin in Corona,

and it sure as hell
didn't sound like

he was out there hangin' shit.

So he lyin'.

Maybe.

If we ain't for sure,
we don't move on him.

I got somebody on the inside

who say they saw Scrap
up in the precinct talkin'.

That shit alone is enough
to make the call, Lou.

Then why send Marvin
to talk to him

and do all that
undercover bullshit?

'Cause I wanna be sure, Lou.

Marvin ain't sure.

Right, Marvin?

Like I said,
don't put this shit on me.

I told you what I told you.

I won't fuck with it. Hell no.

Okay, well, if the shit
is true,

Scrap could put
us all away forever.

Lose everything, includin'
your fuckin' precious music.

Tell you one thing.

I ain't doin' it.

I ain't swingin' this time.

G57.

57G.

B1. B1.

Nigga, I'm here to see Deen,
nigga.

Fuck is you?

Deen don't meet with nobody

but friends and family.

And you neither, nigga.

Well, he gonna wanna see me.

How you gonna do that
with my motherfuckin' pistol

in your mouth, huh?

Hey, hey, hey.

That's not necessary, Efrem.

Get off me, little-ass nigga.

This nigga must've forgot
who the fuck I am, man.

Ain't nobody's forgotten you,
'Nique.

We'd just rather not remember.

You gonna need
some bigger soldiers, Deen.

Fit this nigga in my pocket.

Look, I'll hit you
with a 30% premium

when I'm back up on top,

which won't be long.

I'm already sizin' up corners
out here.

You're not a safe investment,
'Nique.

Not now or anytime
in the near distant future.

Look, I ain't shoot
that cop, man.

That's-that's why
they let me out,

'cause they ain't
got shit on me.

And yet,
according to my sources,

NYPD continues to consider you
a person of interest.

Well, maybe
they interested in me

'cause I'm an interesting
motherfucker, Deen.

But I definitely
ain't pop that pig.

G48, G48, 48.

It's G48, Grandma.

Raq and her Colombian supplier

have cornered the market
in your old stomping grounds.

There's no room
for competition...

Not for me or for you.

I'm only competition
if I don't win.

But I'm gonna win, Deen.

Oh, my gosh, 63.

I just need the assist, a'ight?

I'm a little fucked up
right now.

But I ain't never asked you
for a favor like this.

Desperation doesn't suit you,
'Nique.

G1.

Let's go.

- You makin' a mistake, Deen.
- Let's go.

The fuck off me.

You fuckin' up, Deen!

You fuckin' up, man!

♪ One day
We're gonna wake up ♪

♪ What gets us all around... ♪

Hey. Hey, hey.

Hey, hey, hey.

♪ All my friends ♪

♪ Have you ever seen... ♪

What?

I'm moving, Lou.

To LA.

Crown got me a job at
a management company out there.

LA, Crown? What the fuck
is you talkin' 'bout?

I'm goin' tomorrow.

Crown got you a job
in Los Angeles

and you're leaving tomorrow?

You know,
I wasn't even planning

on telling you about this

because I knew we was
gonna fight about it,

and I'm just so done
fightin' wit' you.

But I thought
it'd be mad fucked up

if I just left,
so I'm telling you now.

This motherfucker Crown.

It's not on Crown, Lou.
I asked him to help me.

He didn't just do it
on his own,

so don't blame him.

You bouncin' on Fame too?

Famous is gonna do
whatever he gonna do.

He don't need
my help anymore anyway.

Yeah, maybe because
he figured out

that you was gonna
kick his ass to the curb

soon as you got your shot

at being all Beverly Hills
and shit.

I gotta look out for myself

because no one else
is gonna do it.

Get the fuck out my studio.

♪ Oh ♪

♪ Do you ever see
A man break down? ♪

Fuck!

Look what they did to me, man.

Look at what they did to us.

I was gonna call you
right when I got out, but...

I figured I'd get
some things in order first.

Deen ain't fuckin'
with me right now, man.

Feel like I'm lookin' in
from the outside.

Look, I need you back
on my team, Worrell.

Strength in numbers, my nigga.

Come on, we gotta get
the team back together, man.

I'm onto other shit, 'Nique.

Different opportunity.

Can't ride with you this time.

What, you on Raq's dick, nigga?

Ain't nothin' left for you
on the South side, man.

Maybe...

it's time to go.

Nah.

I decide when I wanna go,
Worrell.

Ain't nobody forcin' me
off these blocks...

Not the police, not Raq,

damn sure not you, nigga.

I'm here.

I ain't going nowhere.

Well, I ain't going nowhere

wit' you...

...brother.

I'll be back to visit soon.

No. There's nothing here
for you or anybody else.

You go there to Los Angeles,
and you stay there.

Okay.

Okay?

Okay.

Promise me you won't
give up on your music?

Think I'ma give up
'cause you leavin'?

Man, fuck that.

Started this shit without you.

I'ma blow up without you.

Good. I want you to blow up.

I love you.

Where to, miss?

Uh, JFK, terminal two.

She on the way to the airport,
huh?

Who gives a fuck?

I knew you niggas would come
correct and do what's right.

And you know I'ma have
that new lab

runnin' like goddamn clockwork,

'cause that's how I do.

Yo, that's it?

That's-that's the new spot?

Whoo!

And we gonna be feedin' Baisley
and the Forties from here.

Yeah, word.

Yo, let's do this, then.

That's what I'm talkin' 'bout.

Takin' care of your man
with a new job and big raise?

I ain't gonna
let you down either.

This spot is gonna be puttin'
out that good work.

Whoo!

I likes.

I likes.

Mm.
Got room to breathe in here.

Yeah, not bad.

Not too bad.
Not too bad at all.

Nah.

Nah...

Sometime
there ain't shit to say.

Ain't no lesson to learn.

So let me just
shut the fuck up.

♪ So you wanna be
A gangster, all that shit ♪

♪ Smoke any motherfucker
Don't even trip ♪

♪ You be hard as hell
Take whatever you want ♪

♪ Punk suckers wanna front
They get done ♪

♪ 'Cause you a gangster
Nothin' more, nothin' less ♪

♪ Put my boy to the test
And catch one in your chest ♪

♪ Since he was young
Homeboy won't back down ♪

♪ 'Cause real gangsters
Always hold that frown ♪

♪ Until you lose control
Then you sell your soul ♪

♪ To the devil, motherfucker
'Cause you're way too cold ♪

♪ And all the people hide
And just run inside ♪

♪ 'Cause you keep usin'
Yo' gat, committin' homicide ♪

♪ Boy, I tell ya
Life is way too short ♪

♪ Another brother
Just got smoked ♪

♪ And you killed him ♪

♪ Ain't that a bitch? ♪

♪ 'Cause it really
Ain't shit ♪

♪ Gangsters, gangsters ♪

♪ Shoot 'em up ♪

♪ Gangsters ♪

♪ That ain't cool ♪

♪ Gangsters ♪

♪ Ain't that a bitch? ♪

♪ Gangsters ♪

♪ Shoot 'em up ♪

♪ Gangsters ♪

♪ That ain't cool ♪

♪ Gangsters ♪

♪ Let me tell you somethin'
Youngster ♪

♪ You got it all wrong ♪

♪ Gangsters don't live
That long ♪