Wu-Tang: An American Saga (2019–…): Season 1, Episode 5 - Cold World - full transcript
Divine returns home, but it doesn't feel the same.
‐ Laurie?
Oh, my God! Whoo!
Why didn't you tell me
you were coming?
I would've gotten
a bed ready.
‐ No, don't worry about it!
You know, I'm staying
with a friend anyway.
‐ Thank God.
‐ What's his name...this time?
‐ What you mean, "this time"?
So how long have you two
been a thing?
‐ Yo, Rie, I need you.
My mom, she, like‐‐
she got fucked up.
I need you to take care
of Darius and Darren.
You think we gonna get
married and have kids?
Kids that turn out
like Darius and Darren?
Is that what you really want?
‐ Yes.
‐ You don't get it.
♪ ♪
‐ This shit sound kinda right.
‐ ♪ One, two, two,
three, three, four ♪
‐ Four! And then yo' ass,
you come in next.
‐ As long as my gun clap,
I ain't gotta rap.
‐ Where's Shotgun at?
‐ Something happened
with a forklift.
He messed up his ankle.
He ain't been back since.
‐ Fuck this shit. We'll find
another way to get the weed.
‐ Did you say weed?
That's the hustle
we need.
It's foolproof.
No 5‐0, no real comp.
Shit is stress‐free.
My son heady
sent me a kite.
Said that nigga 'Vine
got fucked up
and thrown in the box.
Heard he lookin' at, like, 20.
That nigga
rockin' the box.
You gonna be shittin'
on the hood now.
This ride is yours.
Christmas came early, my nigga.
‐ Whoo‐hoo‐hoo!
‐ It's not just you up in here.
It's us, your family.
‐ I'll take the deal.
Everything felt just...dark...
And wrong.
It felt like I was in some
kinda, uh, monster movie.
And when I looked up, you know,
I suddenly realized
that I was the monster.
And the people that I was
terrorizing was my family...
The people that I loved.
Hey, I‐I hurt myself.
I hurt my moms. I...
I hurt my relationship
to the Lord.
By the time I realized
that I was a‐‐an addict,
it was too late, you know?
Crack had consumed my life.
Uh, I was a fiend.
I don't know
if I could ever forgive myself
for the‐‐
the pain I caused.
But I...
but I wanna change.
You know, crack‐‐
crack will never own me again.
Thank you.
‐ Crack cocaine is waging
a brutal war on our island.
And I intend to be brutal back.
But I believe a successful war
is only measured by how
we treat the survivors,
who are its real victims.
I'm releasing you on parole,
Mr. Diggs.
Eight months to be served
in a rehab facility
of the court's choosing.
Good luck, and merry Christmas.
♪ ♪
‐
♪ ♪
♪ ♪
♪ ♪
♪ ♪
♪ ♪
♪ Here we, here we go ♪
♪ Who got the hype shit? ♪
♪ Killa Hill,
Killa, Killa Hill ♪
♪ Who got the hype shit? ♪
♪ Killa Hill,
Killa, Killa Hill ♪
♪ Who got the hype shit? ♪
♪ Killa Hill,
Killa, Killa Hill ♪
♪ Who got the hype shit? ♪
♪ Killa Hill,
Killa, Killa Hill ♪
♪ Who got the hype shit? ♪
♪ Killa Hill,
Killa, Killa Hill ♪
- Damn, who is this?
- Oh, shit.
This is that joint I heard
in Park Hill the other day.
Someone from our
neighborhood made this shit?
Now they're playing it here?
Then you know
this shit is phat.
♪ Fresh in the flesh,
kickin' somethin' brand‐new ♪
Yo, you make
this beat, man?
‐ Yeah.
‐ It sound like a hit.
♪ ♪
‐ And one day soon,
that real shit?
Yeah, that's gonna be
up on that wall.
‐ Yo, sugar sell the pie, man.
‐ Let me, uh...
Give me some of them
blank tapes.
♪ ♪
Don't sell this shit
to nobody else, all right?
If more come in,
put 'em in the back
and I'll buy you out.
‐ Why this one?
You think they sound different?
‐ Red top, blue top.
‐
Yo, you trying to brand
like you out on the block?
‐ Why not?
All this shit is dope, right?
‐ Yes, it is, man.
‐
‐ Ah.
Come on, cripple.
‐ I can't believe
I got hurt at work.
Yo, with these crutches...
‐ Uh‐huh.
‐ Getting to the bus,
the ferry...
in the winter?
Psh.
I was late for work
every day, bro.
‐ Damn.
‐ Felt bad as a motherfucker.
‐ Mm‐hmm.
‐ So I had to quit.
‐ Psh.
‐ Plus, my living situation‐‐
I mean, I love my moms,
but I can't be up in there
no more.
‐ So where you staying at now?
‐ My nigga Rebel's,
till I get my own spot.
‐ Hey, if you're looking
for any cash,
let me know
if you want to be put on.
‐ Come on, now,
you know that ain't me.
You know that.
Something gonna work out.
You hear that shit?
‐ Yeah!
‐ That's my shit.
♪ I get treated
just like a outlaw ♪
♪ Wanted dead or alive,
who got the hype? ♪
♪ Killa Hill,
Killa, Killa Hill ♪
♪ Who got the hype shit?
Killa, Killa Hill ♪
♪ Who got the hype shit? ♪
‐ Damn, son.
You murderin' that.
‐ Yo.
You hear that?
‐ Hell, yeah.
‐ Uh‐huh.
‐ Yeah, nigga.
The whole hood is feelin' you.
‐ Shit.
Shit, them dreads
need to start
sellin' our shit in there, son.
What you got in there?
‐ Oh, shit.
I was tryin'
to show you these, yo.
‐ I like that yellow and black.
‐ You fuck with that?
‐ Hell, yeah.
‐ Yellow and black, right?
‐ Have them tapes
swarmin' in the hood
like killer bees and shit.
‐ I like that shit, nigga.
‐ Damn, son.
You definitely found your lane.
That beat is hard.
‐ Respect.
‐ Mm‐hmm.
‐ Shit, I already got
the next joint.
♪ Brothas don't know
how to flow ♪
♪ Like, "Oh, shit, I can dip,"
I'm a hip‐hop pro ♪
♪ Who want to get fucked,
the buck that bucks the buck ♪
♪ Viva like a squirrel
and get a nut ♪
♪ Niggy nut, what ♪
‐ Yo, I fuck with that, nigga.
‐ Oh, shit.
Ooh, I got a couple lines.
Let me write that down.
I heard Divine
gettin' out today.
You really stepped it up
while he was gone.
‐ Yeah.
‐ Tell your brother
I said what's up.
‐ I will.
‐ All right, boy.
‐ All right.
‐ Gotta make moves, son.
Talk soon.
‐ Curfew is at 2300, sharp.
You must get and keep a job
to live here.
Employment is mandatory.
No visitors allowed.
Group therapy is mandatory.
This way.
Don't touch each other.
Violate any of these rules
and your ass will be violated.
I see fiends like you
come and go by the thousands.
I don't do no favors,
and I don't suffer no fools.
‐ Yo.
Check this out, big man.
I ain't ask you for no favors.
I damn sure ain't no fool.
‐
You don't want to mess with me.
I will throw your ass out
of here like a fucking javelin.
You'll be right back
serving your full sentence.
You understand me, youngblood?
‐ Yeah.
I understand.
‐ Must feel real good
to have your boy back home.
‐ I couldn't take another day
with him in the cage.
And I couldn't thank you enough
for sending us that lawyer.
‐ That's a big order,
smart lady.
You know, my Aunt Gina
always used to say
you want to keep a man
out of trouble,
keep his stomach full
and his balls empty.
First part's your territory...
obviously.
‐
‐ Ricky.
Looks like your sister
and Ricky are hittin' it off.
You got my numbers,
right, Ricky?
So how come y'all don't
play the numbers here?
‐ 'Cause I don't shit
where I eat.
You could learn somethin'
from that.
The first time
I played your song,
I had my whole class dancing.
Even the girls.
‐ Oh, word?
You was dancing with the girls?
‐ I tried to,
and then Miss Shesh came over
and took the tape.
Can you make me
another copy, Bobby?
‐ Yeah, of course I can
make you another copy.
I can make all your friends
copies.
I just bought a bunch
of blank tapes today.
Can somebody
give me a hand?
‐ Yo, Aunt Laurie!
How long it's been, huh? Oh!
‐
I don't know,
but I'm happy to see you.
You know my visit
would not have been complete
without laying my eyes
on the man of the house.
Hey.
How's your mom?
Is she okay?
‐ Yeah, she doing good.
Yo.
What is this, Pelle Pelle?
Man, you always had
the flyest shit.
‐ Well, you know,
times have been good.
‐ Uh‐huh. Uh‐huh.
‐
‐ Aunt Laurie, you know,
you didn't have to buy
all this.
‐ Well, I would have,
but actually,
it was Bobby
that paid for this.
Can we eat now?
I'm hungry.
‐ Yo.
I been trying to get you
to check this out.
My new joint I did with Shotgun
playing at the record store
today.
I might even get them
to sell that shit.
Where you been at lately?
‐ Yeah, my moms got me
puttin' in overtime
with my brothers and shit,
so you know how that go.
‐ This place is looking like
Radio Shack.
Shit, I see you making
a come‐up.
‐ Yeah.
You told me to step my game up,
so I did.
‐ Well, we need to get back
to the real game.
‐ Yo, all the rent and bills
are paid off.
You know that, right?
We got food in the fridge.
So how is this not
the real game?
‐ Selling weed to Wall Street
is not a model with growth.
Growth?
We got shit covered over here.
‐ Yeah, for real, 'Vine.
This shit the easiest money
we ever made, yo.
We ain't competin'
with no street niggas.
And the cops ain't even
comin' around, son.
‐ I was tryin'
to build somethin'
that was gonna take
all of us outta here.
You know, get a‐‐
get a lab
up in fuckin' Grimes Hill
or somewhere.
And your measly hustle
is bullshit.
‐ Bullshit?
Well, Ma don't think
it's bullshit.
‐ I went to jail
'cause of you two.
‐ Yo' ass got out
because of us too.
‐ I lost all my money
'cause of you two niggas.
You two niggas handed
the fucking game to Power,
and I'm supposed to say...
thank you?
Nah, nigga, fuck you!
♪ ♪
‐ Don't you got a curfew?
♪ ♪
You sittin' there,
and this bitch
just starin' at you
with a yellow notepad,
just writin' shit down.
Who she even gonna show
that shit to?
And that's why black folks
don't go to therapy.
Church
is all the therapy I need.
‐ Yeah...
but they always want you
to talk to God.
What if he ain't talking back?
‐ We all just fightin' to keep
that tiny fire of hope goin'.
But hope can hurt
like a motherfucker.
Divine, would
you like to share something?
Hope?
I know what that feels like.
When you're out there
with your friends...
Yo, Power!
Just trying to be a kid,
you know?
How much you make
out here a day
selling newspapers?
My best, 20 bucks.
Not bad.
When you're 10, 11,
20 bucks is great.
But how about when you're 14?
18?
22?
You gotta have a bigger plan.
You want to get off
the toll booth
so you're not
selling newspapers
to people in cars like mine
but driving one yourself.
But then life
hits you...hard.
And all you're trying to do
is make it through the day.
‐ Look at that.
Man of the house.
Taking care of his mama.
Ooh, I don't know
what I'd do without you.
And you realize
that hope,
hope is a lie you tell
yourself to keep going.
Hey, yo, Bobby.
‐ Hey, what's good, yo?
‐ Hey, yo, I listened
to your tape, nigga.
How you let that Park Hill
bitch dis us like that, son?
‐ The fuck
is you talking about?
‐ ♪ Who got the hype shit? ♪
♪ Killa Hill,
Killa, Killa Hill ♪
‐ That ain't no dis, nigga.
That's fuckin' hip‐hop, yo.
‐ Nah, fuck that.
You let that Park Hill clown
dis you
on your own track, nigga.
That don't mean nothing
to you, son?
‐ Hey, take that shit outside.
We don't need none of that
in here.
‐
Yo, our mom
don't be playin' at all.
♪ ♪
‐
‐ All right. Hey, yo,
you want to hit this with me?
‐ Nah, I don't want to fuck up
you and your girl's
alone time, son.
‐ Come on, do it look
like she mind?
Hey, yo, Tina,
do you mind?
‐ A'ight, son.
‐ Hey, I just got this shit
the other day.
'Bout to shine on niggas.
‐ Hey, yo, where you got
that shit from?
- Rockaway Beach?
- ‐
‐ Hey, stop playin' with me.
I got this shit
from the Diamond District.
Shit official.
‐ Yeah, official you got took,
nigga.
Them rocks cloudier
than this fucking room.
‐
Hey.
I've been meaning
to tell you too,
I seen you
at the Park Villa battle.
I ain't know
you could spit like that.
That shit was fire.
‐ Yeah, you ain't even gotta
tell me, son.
Hey, yo,
you still making beats?
‐ I never stopped.
There just ain't been
nobody dope enough
to rhyme over my shit,
you know?
You hear Shotgun's joint?
That shit's trash.
♪ ♪
Yo, that shit tight, son.
‐ Yeah, yeah. Hey.
Hey, jump on the mic.
Lay some shit down.
We can come way harder
than that Killa Hill track.
‐ ♪ Shotgun is dead,
got rhymes for bitches ♪
♪ This is real street G
rap shit, road to riches ♪
♪ Huntin' niggas is startin'
head‐buttin' they bitches ♪
♪ Set Blackbeard on fire,
nigga, we vicious ♪
♪ ♪
‐ Yo!
That verse was crazy!
Hey, I told you the acoustics
in here was special, right?
‐ Yeah, yeah, yeah.
‐ Just go ahead and hit me
with that next verse, nigga.
‐
Yo, what's good, shorty,
what's good?
What you listenin' to?
‐ The nigga Shotgun joint.
What else would I be bumpin'?
‐ Yeah, a'ight.
♪ Killa Hill,
Killa, Killa Hill ♪
‐ You know, I rhyme too.
♪ Killa Hill,
Killa, Killa Hill ♪
♪ Who got the hype shit? ♪
♪ Killa Hill,
Killa, Killa Hill ♪
♪ Who got the hype shit? ♪
♪ Killa Hill,
Killa, Killa Hill ♪
♪ No more Mr. Nice Guy ♪
Uh‐huh, yeah.
♪ Killa, death
to all them niggas up there ♪
♪ Death to all Hill niggas ♪
♪ They know what it is,
Stapleton versus the Hill ♪
♪ All day, nigga,
we got that knuckle game up ♪
Yeah, that's that
real rap right there.
♪ Yeah, yo, yo ♪
♪ Police stations,
criminal investigations ♪
♪ gang man murders,
snitches cooperatin' ♪
♪ Keep a black TEC
to catch the Hill niggas ♪
‐ Hey, yo.
Hey, make sure this shit spread
through the streets, a'ight?
♪ My man switched up ♪
♪ No more Mr. Nice Guy ♪
♪ We got the Glocks,
the TECs ♪
♪ We got the pumps too ♪
♪ No, no, no more
Mr. Nice Guy ♪
♪ If you ain't reppin'
the Staple ♪
♪ My nigga, fuck you ♪
♪ I'm not down with the DOD ♪
♪ The ave
or the wrecked posse ♪
♪ Black king, Haile Selassie,
the feds watch me ♪
♪ Nah, you can't box me,
see me in the scuffle ♪
♪ I belt you
until you buckle ♪
♪ The knuckle game rocky,
it's Hill niggas ♪
♪ Against Stapleton
real niggas ♪
♪ Rob you and your bitch,
we Jack and Jill niggas ♪
♪ ♪
‐ Ooh‐hoo‐hoo!
Your ass is funky.
Underarms hummin' like some
cut onions or somethin'.
Yo, you need to put some
Egyptian Musk on, son.
Word.
‐ Hey, what is it, nigga?
‐ You heard this?
Dennis put out a tape
on his own.
Boo‐yah.
Check it out, son.
Been tearin' up the streets
all day.
Your boy D‐Lover came out
of retirement.
He got himself a hit, boy!
Huh!
♪ No, no, no more
Mr. Nice Guy ♪
♪ I'll teach you the
art of war, word to Sun Tzu ♪
♪ No, no, no more
Mr. Nice Guy ♪
♪ 'Cause you already
know how me and my sons do ♪
♪ No, no, no more
Mr. Nice Guy ♪
♪ We got the Glocks,
the TECs ♪
♪ We got the pumps too ♪
♪ No, no, no more
Mr. Nice Guy ♪
‐ He callin' you out, son!
♪ If you ain't reppin'
the Staple ♪
♪ My nigga, fuck you ♪
‐ Ho, ho, ho!
Merry Christmas...
‐ Hey!
‐ My favorite family Diggs.
‐ Hi.
‐ Hello.
‐ Merry Christmas.
Merry Christmas.
- ‐ Oh.
- ‐
‐
Randy, no,
you ain't to open that.
‐ No, let him open it.
It's okay.
I always hated waiting too.
‐ Whoa!
Oh, my gosh.
‐ Girl, that's too much,
even for you.
I always wanted
one of these!
‐ Girl, relax.
♪ ♪
My number hit.
Where'd you play
the numbers?
At the Rib Shack.
You should've seen
Larry's face.
Girl, I told you,
it was all in the cards.
You know, sometimes
you just gotta
open yourself up to the world
and good forces will come
to yo' aid.
‐ Gotta go check the oven.
♪ ♪
‐ So how you livin',
pretty girl?
♪ ♪
How's your man?
‐ At first, I thought
he was just messed up
'cause of his moms,
but now it just feels like‐‐
I don't know.
♪ ♪
‐ You want me to knock
some sense into him for you?
Here.
♪ ♪
Open it.
♪ ♪
‐ "The Piano Lesson"?
‐
On Broadway.
‐
‐ I saw it
when I was in Chicago once.
I know you'll love it.
You should take Dennis.
‐ Oh.
‐
♪ ♪
So you got something to drink?
In the back of the cupboard,
if you know what I mean.
‐ What'd you give that girl?
♪ ♪
‐ A little bit of inspiration.
Which you may think of
giving her from time to time.
‐ You show up
every couple of years
with a new song and dance.
New job, new coat.
You come and go as you please.
‐ Okay, first of all,
don't get mad at me
'cause I never got tied down,
Linda.
I live life.
And I go where it takes me.
‐ And the problem with going
where life takes you
is that you are never
going anywhere.
You're in and out of beds.
You're in and out of doors.
You're nowhere.
‐ I don't‐‐
‐ Go ahead.
I can't wait to hear the excuse
that comes out of your mouth
this time.
♪ ♪
‐ Well, I can tell
when I've worn out my welcome.
♪ ♪
Keep the love alive, baby girl.
♪ ♪
Okay, so you guys
have the next few days off,
so you won't have me
harpin' at ya.
That being said,
you all need to use this time
to go out there
and look for a job.
Hit it hard.
Really pound the pavement.
‐
‐
'Vine?
‐ Yeah, babe?
‐
‐ Yo, I told you
not to get me nothin'.
‐ Just open it, baby.
Open it.
I figured it could help you
look more professional
for your job interviews.
Plus, I know you have
a real strict curfew.
And I don't want nothing
taking you away from me again.
You like it?
Try it on.
Come on.
‐ I mean, baby,
it ain't my color, so...
‐ But you're still
gonna wear it.
‐
‐ Is that too tight?
Okay.
Looks good.
‐ I love it. Thank you.
♪ No, no, no more
Mr. Nice Guy ♪
♪ If you ain't reppin'
the Staple ♪
♪ My nigga, fuck you ♪
♪ I'm not down with the DOD ♪
♪ The ave
or the wrecked posse ♪
♪ Black king, Haile Selassie,
the feds watch me ♪
♪ Nah, you can't box me,
see me in the scuffle ♪
♪ The knuckle game rocky,
it's Hill niggas ♪
♪ Against Stapleton
real niggas ♪
‐ Larry.
Is everything all right, honey?
‐ Hey, doll.
We gotta talk.
♪ Yeah, that bomber
will fit me ♪
♪ We make you
run your garments ♪
♪ Make you run all your jewels
and your cash ♪
♪ We sackin' quarterbacks
out here ♪
♪ That mean nobody
get a pass ♪
♪ Give 'em hell,
stay in your house ♪
♪ Like a prison cell,
come to our block ♪
♪ We strippin' niggas
like it's Chippendales ♪
‐ Bobby.
Turn the music off.
‐ No, no, Bobby, that's okay.
We like music.
♪ Black hoodies,
we snuck up ♪
♪ Like conceited bitches, all
you pussies gettin' stuck up ♪
♪ When stickup kids
are talkin' ♪
Tell us what you think
of this track.
♪ Niggers in the night ♪
♪ You never see those niggers
in the night ♪
♪ You only smell those
niggers in the night ♪
♪ When they sneak up on you ♪
- Whoo!
- Whoo!
♪ Lazy fucking spooks ♪
♪ Collecting welfare ♪
♪ Driving Cadillacs ♪
♪ What the fuck
do they care? ♪
♪ When they need some bucks ♪
‐ ♪ Then they just
steal from you! ♪
Mom!
‐ Randy, stay upstairs.
Shurrie.
Go see about your brother.
‐ You know what this song
is about?
Thieves.
Filthy fuckin' cheaters.
‐ We ain't steal nothing
from you.
Sweetheart...
we're not saying
you stole anything.
Linda, where's your sister?
‐ My sister?
‐ Yeah. She did something.
‐ Yeah, what this fat fuck
is trying to say
is, your pig sister
and one of our guys
cheated on the numbers.
And since our guy is, uh...
missing
and he can't pay us back
and your sister's
in the wind...
Somebody else has gotta
make it right.
Do you understand
what I'm saying to you?
♪ ♪
‐ Yo, I‐I can't believe
she did us like that.
‐ I can.
I'll deal with her another day.
Right now, we need to keep
this family safe.
‐ All right.
I'll handle it.
No.
You just got out.
You're not jeopardizing
your parole
by getting caught up
in all this.
Ma.
‐ She's right.
I've got this.
The basement is all mine?
‐ Well, you always said
you wanted your own room.
‐ Shit.
Yours is bigger than mine.
‐ Thanks, 'Vine.
Come here.
You like it?
It's our new home!
Come on, let's go.
‐ I can't believe it.
I think I'm dreaming.
‐ Well, uh, I signed
the lease yesterday.
So, uh, Merry Christmas, Mom.
‐ How's your moms
and the rest of the fam?
‐ Oh, you know,
everyone's good.
‐ Yo, I heard one of Bobby's
tracks the other day.
That shit was on point.
That nigga's got some
serious talent, yo.
For real.
‐ Hmm.
‐ Yo, 'Vine.
I just want to say,
I didn't like how all that shit
went down.
But, you know, me and Cressy
can't get involved
in that shit.
I'm glad Bobby and D
came out okay.
‐ Yo, I never put that on you.
You always had my back.
And, uh, I need you to have
my back right now.
‐ What you need?
‐ I want back in.
‐ You just got out.
Your PO's watching
your every move.
You need to finish
that shit first.
‐ No, come on, G,
it's important.
‐ Bobby's got his
little hustle going.
Hang out with your girl.
Spend time with your fam.
It's Christmas.
Come and see me
when you're free and clear.
Yo, if you need money‐‐
‐ Nah.
Nah, nah, nah, nah.
I'm good.
Yo, I...
I better be headin'.
‐ All right, son.
Peace.
‐ Yeah.
♪ Stapleton
versus the Hill ♪
Now, who is this?
I don't know.
Whoever he is,
he is coming back
at Killa Hill hard.
Stapleton got MCs too.
Staten Island
gon' crush Brooklyn,
Queens, and the Bronx.
♪ Blow the feathers
out of their goose ♪
♪ That's Hilfiger ♪
♪ My man switched up,
playing it both sides ♪
♪ When shit get funky,
let's see where he gon' ride ♪
♪ Shotgun is dead,
got rhymes for bitches ♪
‐ You got a talent you can't
just be triflin' with.
You spittin' straight fire
on this.
‐ Yeah, I fuckin' am.
♪ ♪
‐ Hey, yo, I need you to come
with me uptown.
Yo, my moms is in trouble.
♪ ♪
We gotta cop some more weed,
a'ight, go harder.
♪ Shotgun is dead,
got rhymes for bitches ♪
♪ This is real street G
rap shit, roads to riches ♪
Shurrie.
What?
‐ I had to take back
Randy's Atari
and all the other gifts
that Aunt Laurie bought.
So if Laurie gave you
something else,
it's time to stand
by your family and help.
‐ She bought me tickets
to a play.
‐ You're gonna have
to return them.
Or give them to me.
I'll sell 'em.
‐ Mom, the play is tonight.
‐ Those tickets were bought
with stolen money.
‐ It's not fair!
You talkin' about, it's bad?
It's bought with stolen money?
Your rent is paid for by Bobby
and Divine selling drugs.
‐ When you support a house
full of kids all on your own,
then you can come tell me
about what's not fair.
♪ ♪
‐
‐
Oh!
Mm.
Mm.
Look at you surprising me.
Don't let this girl
get spoiled, now.
You don't want to live
that life, baby.
‐ Yo, can I get a ride uptown?
‐ Oh, I gotta go to work.
What's going on?
Hey, I need to pick up
something.
And I ain't got time
to make it on the train.
‐ Pick up what something?
You ain't even got the money
for a re‐up.
‐ The Dominicans will front me.
‐
No.
‐ No, come on, Nia,
I need this.
‐ I said no.
‐ Hey, the only reason
why you have this fucking car
is because I was hustling
when you got laid off.
Now, you would've had to sell
that shit, remember?
‐ Yeah.
I remember.
And I know I've been riding
with you for all these years,
but I'm telling you
that I don't want none of this
in my life no more.
‐ All right.
I need it for my moms.
‐ Divine.
You know I love you.
♪ ♪
And I know you.
That ain't what this is.
Not really.
Baby, you ain't got nobody
to prove yourself to.
Okay, you'll figure out another
way to help your mother.
♪ ♪
‐ Hey, look.
Look.
No, we need to go, huh?
We need to go now.
♪ ♪
Come on, Nia.
Nia, come on.
Hey, Nia, Nia!
No!
No, hey, Nia.
Please?
Nia, come on.
‐ If you want to go down
that road,
I can't stop you.
But you gonna have to go alone.
‐ Hey.
‐ Let go.
‐ Hey, Nia.
Hey, Nia!
Come on!
♪ ♪
Fuck her.
‐ ♪ Uh ♪
♪ Uh, hey, yo,
live from Staten ♪
♪ Rappin',
even when I'm limpin' ♪
♪ Chicks wanna rub on my lamp
like I'm Aladdin ♪
♪ Play 'em like Madden ♪
♪ Grab the weed
out the bag and ♪
♪ Light it up
with a fire‐breathin' dragon ♪
♪ Yo ♪
‐
‐ ♪ Yo ♪
♪ Hey, yo, yo ♪
♪ Hey, yo,
who the hell you dissin'? ♪
♪ Wait, listen,
and I'm a drug dietician ♪
♪ You dealers wake up
with your weight missin' ♪
♪ I keep my grass low ♪
♪ So I can hear
the snakes hissin' ♪
♪ I got so many bars ♪
♪ I should build
a state prison ♪
Hey, yo.
What you got?
‐ I got business.
You think you're gonna be
a star and all that,
so you out here
wasting your fucking time
rhyming on some Memorex tape.
Well, you got some
grown‐ass men that gotta
get out here
and make this paper.
‐ Yo, make sure you get this
down on paper.
♪ Writin' like a novelist,
I'ma bomb the metropolis ♪
♪ You gonna need God to just
come and stop this apocalypse ♪
♪ Rockin' this to put you
impostors in a sarcophagus ♪
♪ Alcoholic, drinking every
drop of your confidence ♪
♪ Hol' up, roll up an L
if you got one ♪
♪ I stay loaded, that's why
they call me Shotgun ♪
- Pow!
- There it is.
I know I'm not
smelling weed up in here.
Man, fuck that.
- Here we go.
- Man, this is bullshit.
‐ All right, y'all.
Let's get going.
‐ We ain't even doing nothing,
son.
‐ Don't try and play me.
I grew up in this building.
You know that.
‐ Yo, you might be
from Killa Hill,
but you still a sucka, nigga.
‐ Yeah, you sucka.
‐ Don't make me write
your asses up
for loitering, because I will.
‐ Whatever, whatever, son.
‐ This guy's always hatin'.
‐ Fuckin' Jake.
‐
Shurrie.
Baby, listen.
‐ Shurrie is gone.
♪ ♪
♪ ♪
♪ ♪
♪ ♪
♪ ♪
♪ ♪
‐ Fuck.
‐ Twenty more seconds,
your ass would've been
right back in the joint.
‐ Twenty more seconds, man.
♪ ♪
I can't believe it.
I think I'm dreaming.
♪ ♪
You're always coming through,
Divine.
‐ Pfft.
‐
Whoo!
‐ Yeah.
‐
‐ Yeah?
‐ Whoa!
‐ Show me my room.
‐ You want yours? Upstairs.
‐ Come on. Let's do it.
‐ Upstairs.
‐
- ‐ The queen bedroom.
- Move out the way!
♪ ♪
Yo, 'Vine.
Got you a Christmas present.
Holidays bring out the fiends
like you're in a monster movie.
Gotta keep 'em in line.
‐
‐ You done DJ'ing
today, nigga.
I got this.
‐ 'Vine, what you did
was big, man.
How moms like it?
‐ Loves it.
‐ Word.
‐ They never seen
so much space.
Their voices be echoing
when they talk to each other.
‐
Word up, man.
♪ ♪
♪ ♪
Get on the line.
Oh, my God! Whoo!
Why didn't you tell me
you were coming?
I would've gotten
a bed ready.
‐ No, don't worry about it!
You know, I'm staying
with a friend anyway.
‐ Thank God.
‐ What's his name...this time?
‐ What you mean, "this time"?
So how long have you two
been a thing?
‐ Yo, Rie, I need you.
My mom, she, like‐‐
she got fucked up.
I need you to take care
of Darius and Darren.
You think we gonna get
married and have kids?
Kids that turn out
like Darius and Darren?
Is that what you really want?
‐ Yes.
‐ You don't get it.
♪ ♪
‐ This shit sound kinda right.
‐ ♪ One, two, two,
three, three, four ♪
‐ Four! And then yo' ass,
you come in next.
‐ As long as my gun clap,
I ain't gotta rap.
‐ Where's Shotgun at?
‐ Something happened
with a forklift.
He messed up his ankle.
He ain't been back since.
‐ Fuck this shit. We'll find
another way to get the weed.
‐ Did you say weed?
That's the hustle
we need.
It's foolproof.
No 5‐0, no real comp.
Shit is stress‐free.
My son heady
sent me a kite.
Said that nigga 'Vine
got fucked up
and thrown in the box.
Heard he lookin' at, like, 20.
That nigga
rockin' the box.
You gonna be shittin'
on the hood now.
This ride is yours.
Christmas came early, my nigga.
‐ Whoo‐hoo‐hoo!
‐ It's not just you up in here.
It's us, your family.
‐ I'll take the deal.
Everything felt just...dark...
And wrong.
It felt like I was in some
kinda, uh, monster movie.
And when I looked up, you know,
I suddenly realized
that I was the monster.
And the people that I was
terrorizing was my family...
The people that I loved.
Hey, I‐I hurt myself.
I hurt my moms. I...
I hurt my relationship
to the Lord.
By the time I realized
that I was a‐‐an addict,
it was too late, you know?
Crack had consumed my life.
Uh, I was a fiend.
I don't know
if I could ever forgive myself
for the‐‐
the pain I caused.
But I...
but I wanna change.
You know, crack‐‐
crack will never own me again.
Thank you.
‐ Crack cocaine is waging
a brutal war on our island.
And I intend to be brutal back.
But I believe a successful war
is only measured by how
we treat the survivors,
who are its real victims.
I'm releasing you on parole,
Mr. Diggs.
Eight months to be served
in a rehab facility
of the court's choosing.
Good luck, and merry Christmas.
♪ ♪
‐
♪ ♪
♪ ♪
♪ ♪
♪ ♪
♪ ♪
♪ Here we, here we go ♪
♪ Who got the hype shit? ♪
♪ Killa Hill,
Killa, Killa Hill ♪
♪ Who got the hype shit? ♪
♪ Killa Hill,
Killa, Killa Hill ♪
♪ Who got the hype shit? ♪
♪ Killa Hill,
Killa, Killa Hill ♪
♪ Who got the hype shit? ♪
♪ Killa Hill,
Killa, Killa Hill ♪
♪ Who got the hype shit? ♪
♪ Killa Hill,
Killa, Killa Hill ♪
- Damn, who is this?
- Oh, shit.
This is that joint I heard
in Park Hill the other day.
Someone from our
neighborhood made this shit?
Now they're playing it here?
Then you know
this shit is phat.
♪ Fresh in the flesh,
kickin' somethin' brand‐new ♪
Yo, you make
this beat, man?
‐ Yeah.
‐ It sound like a hit.
♪ ♪
‐ And one day soon,
that real shit?
Yeah, that's gonna be
up on that wall.
‐ Yo, sugar sell the pie, man.
‐ Let me, uh...
Give me some of them
blank tapes.
♪ ♪
Don't sell this shit
to nobody else, all right?
If more come in,
put 'em in the back
and I'll buy you out.
‐ Why this one?
You think they sound different?
‐ Red top, blue top.
‐
Yo, you trying to brand
like you out on the block?
‐ Why not?
All this shit is dope, right?
‐ Yes, it is, man.
‐
‐ Ah.
Come on, cripple.
‐ I can't believe
I got hurt at work.
Yo, with these crutches...
‐ Uh‐huh.
‐ Getting to the bus,
the ferry...
in the winter?
Psh.
I was late for work
every day, bro.
‐ Damn.
‐ Felt bad as a motherfucker.
‐ Mm‐hmm.
‐ So I had to quit.
‐ Psh.
‐ Plus, my living situation‐‐
I mean, I love my moms,
but I can't be up in there
no more.
‐ So where you staying at now?
‐ My nigga Rebel's,
till I get my own spot.
‐ Hey, if you're looking
for any cash,
let me know
if you want to be put on.
‐ Come on, now,
you know that ain't me.
You know that.
Something gonna work out.
You hear that shit?
‐ Yeah!
‐ That's my shit.
♪ I get treated
just like a outlaw ♪
♪ Wanted dead or alive,
who got the hype? ♪
♪ Killa Hill,
Killa, Killa Hill ♪
♪ Who got the hype shit?
Killa, Killa Hill ♪
♪ Who got the hype shit? ♪
‐ Damn, son.
You murderin' that.
‐ Yo.
You hear that?
‐ Hell, yeah.
‐ Uh‐huh.
‐ Yeah, nigga.
The whole hood is feelin' you.
‐ Shit.
Shit, them dreads
need to start
sellin' our shit in there, son.
What you got in there?
‐ Oh, shit.
I was tryin'
to show you these, yo.
‐ I like that yellow and black.
‐ You fuck with that?
‐ Hell, yeah.
‐ Yellow and black, right?
‐ Have them tapes
swarmin' in the hood
like killer bees and shit.
‐ I like that shit, nigga.
‐ Damn, son.
You definitely found your lane.
That beat is hard.
‐ Respect.
‐ Mm‐hmm.
‐ Shit, I already got
the next joint.
♪ Brothas don't know
how to flow ♪
♪ Like, "Oh, shit, I can dip,"
I'm a hip‐hop pro ♪
♪ Who want to get fucked,
the buck that bucks the buck ♪
♪ Viva like a squirrel
and get a nut ♪
♪ Niggy nut, what ♪
‐ Yo, I fuck with that, nigga.
‐ Oh, shit.
Ooh, I got a couple lines.
Let me write that down.
I heard Divine
gettin' out today.
You really stepped it up
while he was gone.
‐ Yeah.
‐ Tell your brother
I said what's up.
‐ I will.
‐ All right, boy.
‐ All right.
‐ Gotta make moves, son.
Talk soon.
‐ Curfew is at 2300, sharp.
You must get and keep a job
to live here.
Employment is mandatory.
No visitors allowed.
Group therapy is mandatory.
This way.
Don't touch each other.
Violate any of these rules
and your ass will be violated.
I see fiends like you
come and go by the thousands.
I don't do no favors,
and I don't suffer no fools.
‐ Yo.
Check this out, big man.
I ain't ask you for no favors.
I damn sure ain't no fool.
‐
You don't want to mess with me.
I will throw your ass out
of here like a fucking javelin.
You'll be right back
serving your full sentence.
You understand me, youngblood?
‐ Yeah.
I understand.
‐ Must feel real good
to have your boy back home.
‐ I couldn't take another day
with him in the cage.
And I couldn't thank you enough
for sending us that lawyer.
‐ That's a big order,
smart lady.
You know, my Aunt Gina
always used to say
you want to keep a man
out of trouble,
keep his stomach full
and his balls empty.
First part's your territory...
obviously.
‐
‐ Ricky.
Looks like your sister
and Ricky are hittin' it off.
You got my numbers,
right, Ricky?
So how come y'all don't
play the numbers here?
‐ 'Cause I don't shit
where I eat.
You could learn somethin'
from that.
The first time
I played your song,
I had my whole class dancing.
Even the girls.
‐ Oh, word?
You was dancing with the girls?
‐ I tried to,
and then Miss Shesh came over
and took the tape.
Can you make me
another copy, Bobby?
‐ Yeah, of course I can
make you another copy.
I can make all your friends
copies.
I just bought a bunch
of blank tapes today.
Can somebody
give me a hand?
‐ Yo, Aunt Laurie!
How long it's been, huh? Oh!
‐
I don't know,
but I'm happy to see you.
You know my visit
would not have been complete
without laying my eyes
on the man of the house.
Hey.
How's your mom?
Is she okay?
‐ Yeah, she doing good.
Yo.
What is this, Pelle Pelle?
Man, you always had
the flyest shit.
‐ Well, you know,
times have been good.
‐ Uh‐huh. Uh‐huh.
‐
‐ Aunt Laurie, you know,
you didn't have to buy
all this.
‐ Well, I would have,
but actually,
it was Bobby
that paid for this.
Can we eat now?
I'm hungry.
‐ Yo.
I been trying to get you
to check this out.
My new joint I did with Shotgun
playing at the record store
today.
I might even get them
to sell that shit.
Where you been at lately?
‐ Yeah, my moms got me
puttin' in overtime
with my brothers and shit,
so you know how that go.
‐ This place is looking like
Radio Shack.
Shit, I see you making
a come‐up.
‐ Yeah.
You told me to step my game up,
so I did.
‐ Well, we need to get back
to the real game.
‐ Yo, all the rent and bills
are paid off.
You know that, right?
We got food in the fridge.
So how is this not
the real game?
‐ Selling weed to Wall Street
is not a model with growth.
Growth?
We got shit covered over here.
‐ Yeah, for real, 'Vine.
This shit the easiest money
we ever made, yo.
We ain't competin'
with no street niggas.
And the cops ain't even
comin' around, son.
‐ I was tryin'
to build somethin'
that was gonna take
all of us outta here.
You know, get a‐‐
get a lab
up in fuckin' Grimes Hill
or somewhere.
And your measly hustle
is bullshit.
‐ Bullshit?
Well, Ma don't think
it's bullshit.
‐ I went to jail
'cause of you two.
‐ Yo' ass got out
because of us too.
‐ I lost all my money
'cause of you two niggas.
You two niggas handed
the fucking game to Power,
and I'm supposed to say...
thank you?
Nah, nigga, fuck you!
♪ ♪
‐ Don't you got a curfew?
♪ ♪
You sittin' there,
and this bitch
just starin' at you
with a yellow notepad,
just writin' shit down.
Who she even gonna show
that shit to?
And that's why black folks
don't go to therapy.
Church
is all the therapy I need.
‐ Yeah...
but they always want you
to talk to God.
What if he ain't talking back?
‐ We all just fightin' to keep
that tiny fire of hope goin'.
But hope can hurt
like a motherfucker.
Divine, would
you like to share something?
Hope?
I know what that feels like.
When you're out there
with your friends...
Yo, Power!
Just trying to be a kid,
you know?
How much you make
out here a day
selling newspapers?
My best, 20 bucks.
Not bad.
When you're 10, 11,
20 bucks is great.
But how about when you're 14?
18?
22?
You gotta have a bigger plan.
You want to get off
the toll booth
so you're not
selling newspapers
to people in cars like mine
but driving one yourself.
But then life
hits you...hard.
And all you're trying to do
is make it through the day.
‐ Look at that.
Man of the house.
Taking care of his mama.
Ooh, I don't know
what I'd do without you.
And you realize
that hope,
hope is a lie you tell
yourself to keep going.
Hey, yo, Bobby.
‐ Hey, what's good, yo?
‐ Hey, yo, I listened
to your tape, nigga.
How you let that Park Hill
bitch dis us like that, son?
‐ The fuck
is you talking about?
‐ ♪ Who got the hype shit? ♪
♪ Killa Hill,
Killa, Killa Hill ♪
‐ That ain't no dis, nigga.
That's fuckin' hip‐hop, yo.
‐ Nah, fuck that.
You let that Park Hill clown
dis you
on your own track, nigga.
That don't mean nothing
to you, son?
‐ Hey, take that shit outside.
We don't need none of that
in here.
‐
Yo, our mom
don't be playin' at all.
♪ ♪
‐
‐ All right. Hey, yo,
you want to hit this with me?
‐ Nah, I don't want to fuck up
you and your girl's
alone time, son.
‐ Come on, do it look
like she mind?
Hey, yo, Tina,
do you mind?
‐ A'ight, son.
‐ Hey, I just got this shit
the other day.
'Bout to shine on niggas.
‐ Hey, yo, where you got
that shit from?
- Rockaway Beach?
- ‐
‐ Hey, stop playin' with me.
I got this shit
from the Diamond District.
Shit official.
‐ Yeah, official you got took,
nigga.
Them rocks cloudier
than this fucking room.
‐
Hey.
I've been meaning
to tell you too,
I seen you
at the Park Villa battle.
I ain't know
you could spit like that.
That shit was fire.
‐ Yeah, you ain't even gotta
tell me, son.
Hey, yo,
you still making beats?
‐ I never stopped.
There just ain't been
nobody dope enough
to rhyme over my shit,
you know?
You hear Shotgun's joint?
That shit's trash.
♪ ♪
Yo, that shit tight, son.
‐ Yeah, yeah. Hey.
Hey, jump on the mic.
Lay some shit down.
We can come way harder
than that Killa Hill track.
‐ ♪ Shotgun is dead,
got rhymes for bitches ♪
♪ This is real street G
rap shit, road to riches ♪
♪ Huntin' niggas is startin'
head‐buttin' they bitches ♪
♪ Set Blackbeard on fire,
nigga, we vicious ♪
♪ ♪
‐ Yo!
That verse was crazy!
Hey, I told you the acoustics
in here was special, right?
‐ Yeah, yeah, yeah.
‐ Just go ahead and hit me
with that next verse, nigga.
‐
Yo, what's good, shorty,
what's good?
What you listenin' to?
‐ The nigga Shotgun joint.
What else would I be bumpin'?
‐ Yeah, a'ight.
♪ Killa Hill,
Killa, Killa Hill ♪
‐ You know, I rhyme too.
♪ Killa Hill,
Killa, Killa Hill ♪
♪ Who got the hype shit? ♪
♪ Killa Hill,
Killa, Killa Hill ♪
♪ Who got the hype shit? ♪
♪ Killa Hill,
Killa, Killa Hill ♪
♪ No more Mr. Nice Guy ♪
Uh‐huh, yeah.
♪ Killa, death
to all them niggas up there ♪
♪ Death to all Hill niggas ♪
♪ They know what it is,
Stapleton versus the Hill ♪
♪ All day, nigga,
we got that knuckle game up ♪
Yeah, that's that
real rap right there.
♪ Yeah, yo, yo ♪
♪ Police stations,
criminal investigations ♪
♪ gang man murders,
snitches cooperatin' ♪
♪ Keep a black TEC
to catch the Hill niggas ♪
‐ Hey, yo.
Hey, make sure this shit spread
through the streets, a'ight?
♪ My man switched up ♪
♪ No more Mr. Nice Guy ♪
♪ We got the Glocks,
the TECs ♪
♪ We got the pumps too ♪
♪ No, no, no more
Mr. Nice Guy ♪
♪ If you ain't reppin'
the Staple ♪
♪ My nigga, fuck you ♪
♪ I'm not down with the DOD ♪
♪ The ave
or the wrecked posse ♪
♪ Black king, Haile Selassie,
the feds watch me ♪
♪ Nah, you can't box me,
see me in the scuffle ♪
♪ I belt you
until you buckle ♪
♪ The knuckle game rocky,
it's Hill niggas ♪
♪ Against Stapleton
real niggas ♪
♪ Rob you and your bitch,
we Jack and Jill niggas ♪
♪ ♪
‐ Ooh‐hoo‐hoo!
Your ass is funky.
Underarms hummin' like some
cut onions or somethin'.
Yo, you need to put some
Egyptian Musk on, son.
Word.
‐ Hey, what is it, nigga?
‐ You heard this?
Dennis put out a tape
on his own.
Boo‐yah.
Check it out, son.
Been tearin' up the streets
all day.
Your boy D‐Lover came out
of retirement.
He got himself a hit, boy!
Huh!
♪ No, no, no more
Mr. Nice Guy ♪
♪ I'll teach you the
art of war, word to Sun Tzu ♪
♪ No, no, no more
Mr. Nice Guy ♪
♪ 'Cause you already
know how me and my sons do ♪
♪ No, no, no more
Mr. Nice Guy ♪
♪ We got the Glocks,
the TECs ♪
♪ We got the pumps too ♪
♪ No, no, no more
Mr. Nice Guy ♪
‐ He callin' you out, son!
♪ If you ain't reppin'
the Staple ♪
♪ My nigga, fuck you ♪
‐ Ho, ho, ho!
Merry Christmas...
‐ Hey!
‐ My favorite family Diggs.
‐ Hi.
‐ Hello.
‐ Merry Christmas.
Merry Christmas.
- ‐ Oh.
- ‐
‐
Randy, no,
you ain't to open that.
‐ No, let him open it.
It's okay.
I always hated waiting too.
‐ Whoa!
Oh, my gosh.
‐ Girl, that's too much,
even for you.
I always wanted
one of these!
‐ Girl, relax.
♪ ♪
My number hit.
Where'd you play
the numbers?
At the Rib Shack.
You should've seen
Larry's face.
Girl, I told you,
it was all in the cards.
You know, sometimes
you just gotta
open yourself up to the world
and good forces will come
to yo' aid.
‐ Gotta go check the oven.
♪ ♪
‐ So how you livin',
pretty girl?
♪ ♪
How's your man?
‐ At first, I thought
he was just messed up
'cause of his moms,
but now it just feels like‐‐
I don't know.
♪ ♪
‐ You want me to knock
some sense into him for you?
Here.
♪ ♪
Open it.
♪ ♪
‐ "The Piano Lesson"?
‐
On Broadway.
‐
‐ I saw it
when I was in Chicago once.
I know you'll love it.
You should take Dennis.
‐ Oh.
‐
♪ ♪
So you got something to drink?
In the back of the cupboard,
if you know what I mean.
‐ What'd you give that girl?
♪ ♪
‐ A little bit of inspiration.
Which you may think of
giving her from time to time.
‐ You show up
every couple of years
with a new song and dance.
New job, new coat.
You come and go as you please.
‐ Okay, first of all,
don't get mad at me
'cause I never got tied down,
Linda.
I live life.
And I go where it takes me.
‐ And the problem with going
where life takes you
is that you are never
going anywhere.
You're in and out of beds.
You're in and out of doors.
You're nowhere.
‐ I don't‐‐
‐ Go ahead.
I can't wait to hear the excuse
that comes out of your mouth
this time.
♪ ♪
‐ Well, I can tell
when I've worn out my welcome.
♪ ♪
Keep the love alive, baby girl.
♪ ♪
Okay, so you guys
have the next few days off,
so you won't have me
harpin' at ya.
That being said,
you all need to use this time
to go out there
and look for a job.
Hit it hard.
Really pound the pavement.
‐
‐
'Vine?
‐ Yeah, babe?
‐
‐ Yo, I told you
not to get me nothin'.
‐ Just open it, baby.
Open it.
I figured it could help you
look more professional
for your job interviews.
Plus, I know you have
a real strict curfew.
And I don't want nothing
taking you away from me again.
You like it?
Try it on.
Come on.
‐ I mean, baby,
it ain't my color, so...
‐ But you're still
gonna wear it.
‐
‐ Is that too tight?
Okay.
Looks good.
‐ I love it. Thank you.
♪ No, no, no more
Mr. Nice Guy ♪
♪ If you ain't reppin'
the Staple ♪
♪ My nigga, fuck you ♪
♪ I'm not down with the DOD ♪
♪ The ave
or the wrecked posse ♪
♪ Black king, Haile Selassie,
the feds watch me ♪
♪ Nah, you can't box me,
see me in the scuffle ♪
♪ The knuckle game rocky,
it's Hill niggas ♪
♪ Against Stapleton
real niggas ♪
‐ Larry.
Is everything all right, honey?
‐ Hey, doll.
We gotta talk.
♪ Yeah, that bomber
will fit me ♪
♪ We make you
run your garments ♪
♪ Make you run all your jewels
and your cash ♪
♪ We sackin' quarterbacks
out here ♪
♪ That mean nobody
get a pass ♪
♪ Give 'em hell,
stay in your house ♪
♪ Like a prison cell,
come to our block ♪
♪ We strippin' niggas
like it's Chippendales ♪
‐ Bobby.
Turn the music off.
‐ No, no, Bobby, that's okay.
We like music.
♪ Black hoodies,
we snuck up ♪
♪ Like conceited bitches, all
you pussies gettin' stuck up ♪
♪ When stickup kids
are talkin' ♪
Tell us what you think
of this track.
♪ Niggers in the night ♪
♪ You never see those niggers
in the night ♪
♪ You only smell those
niggers in the night ♪
♪ When they sneak up on you ♪
- Whoo!
- Whoo!
♪ Lazy fucking spooks ♪
♪ Collecting welfare ♪
♪ Driving Cadillacs ♪
♪ What the fuck
do they care? ♪
♪ When they need some bucks ♪
‐ ♪ Then they just
steal from you! ♪
Mom!
‐ Randy, stay upstairs.
Shurrie.
Go see about your brother.
‐ You know what this song
is about?
Thieves.
Filthy fuckin' cheaters.
‐ We ain't steal nothing
from you.
Sweetheart...
we're not saying
you stole anything.
Linda, where's your sister?
‐ My sister?
‐ Yeah. She did something.
‐ Yeah, what this fat fuck
is trying to say
is, your pig sister
and one of our guys
cheated on the numbers.
And since our guy is, uh...
missing
and he can't pay us back
and your sister's
in the wind...
Somebody else has gotta
make it right.
Do you understand
what I'm saying to you?
♪ ♪
‐ Yo, I‐I can't believe
she did us like that.
‐ I can.
I'll deal with her another day.
Right now, we need to keep
this family safe.
‐ All right.
I'll handle it.
No.
You just got out.
You're not jeopardizing
your parole
by getting caught up
in all this.
Ma.
‐ She's right.
I've got this.
The basement is all mine?
‐ Well, you always said
you wanted your own room.
‐ Shit.
Yours is bigger than mine.
‐ Thanks, 'Vine.
Come here.
You like it?
It's our new home!
Come on, let's go.
‐ I can't believe it.
I think I'm dreaming.
‐ Well, uh, I signed
the lease yesterday.
So, uh, Merry Christmas, Mom.
‐ How's your moms
and the rest of the fam?
‐ Oh, you know,
everyone's good.
‐ Yo, I heard one of Bobby's
tracks the other day.
That shit was on point.
That nigga's got some
serious talent, yo.
For real.
‐ Hmm.
‐ Yo, 'Vine.
I just want to say,
I didn't like how all that shit
went down.
But, you know, me and Cressy
can't get involved
in that shit.
I'm glad Bobby and D
came out okay.
‐ Yo, I never put that on you.
You always had my back.
And, uh, I need you to have
my back right now.
‐ What you need?
‐ I want back in.
‐ You just got out.
Your PO's watching
your every move.
You need to finish
that shit first.
‐ No, come on, G,
it's important.
‐ Bobby's got his
little hustle going.
Hang out with your girl.
Spend time with your fam.
It's Christmas.
Come and see me
when you're free and clear.
Yo, if you need money‐‐
‐ Nah.
Nah, nah, nah, nah.
I'm good.
Yo, I...
I better be headin'.
‐ All right, son.
Peace.
‐ Yeah.
♪ Stapleton
versus the Hill ♪
Now, who is this?
I don't know.
Whoever he is,
he is coming back
at Killa Hill hard.
Stapleton got MCs too.
Staten Island
gon' crush Brooklyn,
Queens, and the Bronx.
♪ Blow the feathers
out of their goose ♪
♪ That's Hilfiger ♪
♪ My man switched up,
playing it both sides ♪
♪ When shit get funky,
let's see where he gon' ride ♪
♪ Shotgun is dead,
got rhymes for bitches ♪
‐ You got a talent you can't
just be triflin' with.
You spittin' straight fire
on this.
‐ Yeah, I fuckin' am.
♪ ♪
‐ Hey, yo, I need you to come
with me uptown.
Yo, my moms is in trouble.
♪ ♪
We gotta cop some more weed,
a'ight, go harder.
♪ Shotgun is dead,
got rhymes for bitches ♪
♪ This is real street G
rap shit, roads to riches ♪
Shurrie.
What?
‐ I had to take back
Randy's Atari
and all the other gifts
that Aunt Laurie bought.
So if Laurie gave you
something else,
it's time to stand
by your family and help.
‐ She bought me tickets
to a play.
‐ You're gonna have
to return them.
Or give them to me.
I'll sell 'em.
‐ Mom, the play is tonight.
‐ Those tickets were bought
with stolen money.
‐ It's not fair!
You talkin' about, it's bad?
It's bought with stolen money?
Your rent is paid for by Bobby
and Divine selling drugs.
‐ When you support a house
full of kids all on your own,
then you can come tell me
about what's not fair.
♪ ♪
‐
‐
Oh!
Mm.
Mm.
Look at you surprising me.
Don't let this girl
get spoiled, now.
You don't want to live
that life, baby.
‐ Yo, can I get a ride uptown?
‐ Oh, I gotta go to work.
What's going on?
Hey, I need to pick up
something.
And I ain't got time
to make it on the train.
‐ Pick up what something?
You ain't even got the money
for a re‐up.
‐ The Dominicans will front me.
‐
No.
‐ No, come on, Nia,
I need this.
‐ I said no.
‐ Hey, the only reason
why you have this fucking car
is because I was hustling
when you got laid off.
Now, you would've had to sell
that shit, remember?
‐ Yeah.
I remember.
And I know I've been riding
with you for all these years,
but I'm telling you
that I don't want none of this
in my life no more.
‐ All right.
I need it for my moms.
‐ Divine.
You know I love you.
♪ ♪
And I know you.
That ain't what this is.
Not really.
Baby, you ain't got nobody
to prove yourself to.
Okay, you'll figure out another
way to help your mother.
♪ ♪
‐ Hey, look.
Look.
No, we need to go, huh?
We need to go now.
♪ ♪
Come on, Nia.
Nia, come on.
Hey, Nia, Nia!
No!
No, hey, Nia.
Please?
Nia, come on.
‐ If you want to go down
that road,
I can't stop you.
But you gonna have to go alone.
‐ Hey.
‐ Let go.
‐ Hey, Nia.
Hey, Nia!
Come on!
♪ ♪
Fuck her.
‐ ♪ Uh ♪
♪ Uh, hey, yo,
live from Staten ♪
♪ Rappin',
even when I'm limpin' ♪
♪ Chicks wanna rub on my lamp
like I'm Aladdin ♪
♪ Play 'em like Madden ♪
♪ Grab the weed
out the bag and ♪
♪ Light it up
with a fire‐breathin' dragon ♪
♪ Yo ♪
‐
‐ ♪ Yo ♪
♪ Hey, yo, yo ♪
♪ Hey, yo,
who the hell you dissin'? ♪
♪ Wait, listen,
and I'm a drug dietician ♪
♪ You dealers wake up
with your weight missin' ♪
♪ I keep my grass low ♪
♪ So I can hear
the snakes hissin' ♪
♪ I got so many bars ♪
♪ I should build
a state prison ♪
Hey, yo.
What you got?
‐ I got business.
You think you're gonna be
a star and all that,
so you out here
wasting your fucking time
rhyming on some Memorex tape.
Well, you got some
grown‐ass men that gotta
get out here
and make this paper.
‐ Yo, make sure you get this
down on paper.
♪ Writin' like a novelist,
I'ma bomb the metropolis ♪
♪ You gonna need God to just
come and stop this apocalypse ♪
♪ Rockin' this to put you
impostors in a sarcophagus ♪
♪ Alcoholic, drinking every
drop of your confidence ♪
♪ Hol' up, roll up an L
if you got one ♪
♪ I stay loaded, that's why
they call me Shotgun ♪
- Pow!
- There it is.
I know I'm not
smelling weed up in here.
Man, fuck that.
- Here we go.
- Man, this is bullshit.
‐ All right, y'all.
Let's get going.
‐ We ain't even doing nothing,
son.
‐ Don't try and play me.
I grew up in this building.
You know that.
‐ Yo, you might be
from Killa Hill,
but you still a sucka, nigga.
‐ Yeah, you sucka.
‐ Don't make me write
your asses up
for loitering, because I will.
‐ Whatever, whatever, son.
‐ This guy's always hatin'.
‐ Fuckin' Jake.
‐
Shurrie.
Baby, listen.
‐ Shurrie is gone.
♪ ♪
♪ ♪
♪ ♪
♪ ♪
♪ ♪
♪ ♪
‐ Fuck.
‐ Twenty more seconds,
your ass would've been
right back in the joint.
‐ Twenty more seconds, man.
♪ ♪
I can't believe it.
I think I'm dreaming.
♪ ♪
You're always coming through,
Divine.
‐ Pfft.
‐
Whoo!
‐ Yeah.
‐
‐ Yeah?
‐ Whoa!
‐ Show me my room.
‐ You want yours? Upstairs.
‐ Come on. Let's do it.
‐ Upstairs.
‐
- ‐ The queen bedroom.
- Move out the way!
♪ ♪
Yo, 'Vine.
Got you a Christmas present.
Holidays bring out the fiends
like you're in a monster movie.
Gotta keep 'em in line.
‐
‐ You done DJ'ing
today, nigga.
I got this.
‐ 'Vine, what you did
was big, man.
How moms like it?
‐ Loves it.
‐ Word.
‐ They never seen
so much space.
Their voices be echoing
when they talk to each other.
‐
Word up, man.
♪ ♪
♪ ♪
Get on the line.