Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

I owe you...
and you ain't even around to see that shit right.
It's not like I was walking around...
Yeah, you are.
If you don't hand no money to nobody that matters...
How bad is that?
-Yeah, later. -Later?
Shit.
It's boring, painstaking work, but if you don't want...
Low-level people.
until the grand jury signs off.
Where's it all go?
Okay.
It's always the case.
A judge signs something like that, you can clone a beeper.
Read that.
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This shit is fucking stupid.
He hurt your feelings?
In the beginning, you're in your radio car...
We ain't got shit.
The usual.
Touts and children, that's all you're gonna get.
Spread your legs. Don't make me kick your ass, too.
Not that my bosses give a damn at this point.
-But you ain't got to punk him like that. -He punked himself.
-I know I look like I could go either way. -Lord, yes, you do. Yes, you do.
-We're right in the middle of a game. -Chill out, I want to see this.
The pawns, man, in the game...
No.
Clean. Not a fucking thing in there.
-Squires, young squires. -What you want, nigger?
You?
You want something different, you give me another name.
I'm his right hand.
-Can I come in? -No.
on three shifts hounding you every goddamned day.
-What? -Valchek.
I'm not jumping out on something that will harm the case.
-What's up with shop? -No re-up.
We're in the projects.
he takes them to the judge, he figures the judge goes away.
We got to get with the feds somehow.
-Who are you partnered with? -McNulty.
He says it goes to a grand jury.