Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

Roll, roll, roll.
Belonged to Cornell.
Hmm.
Candace is dead.
Ma'am, please step back.
Where's my phone?
The doctor who did this to me...
Exhale on every punch.
I have done all I can.
who I heard escaped from Seagate Prison? I don't know.
You said no more secrets.
- Misty. - Not right now.
You will say anything about me, won't you?
What about her confession?
The information's pertinent and valid.
Make a deal.
It's been an extraordinary night here in Harlem.
An African-American woman, mid-twenties, in front of a bodega.
It's the pinnacle of black art...
Yeah!
Not Cornell's.
Come on. Where are you, Misty?
Alex, you're the man.
Would you like an attorney?
You got it, Luke!
Some West Coast shit.
That is the second time you have attacked a civilian in here.
Well, you'll have some time to read now.
You are going down.
Okay, Mama. All right.
Looks like this place don't wanna be a barber shop anymore.
Never doubt that.
I've got work to do.
politics...
You can't trust niggas around equipment.