Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

Question is, what do you want me to do now?
If you've ever worked with me before, you know I don't want cowboy shit...
They used your name, Stringer, Wee-Bey...
What?
I always heard it that you can't win if you don't play.
you used a Kel-Light, not the handle of your service weapon...
Kima, if you don't mind me asking...
Gant, William. 41 years.
You don't know, and you don't need to know.
Do I know you?
Correct.
Bunk and me, we got our own rhythm.
What are you doing here at 2:00 in the morning?
-They're yours? -Yeah, afraid so.
-Hello? -You seen the paper?
Do you hear me?
-What? -The newspaper, get it.
He stuck to his story for half a day, until Ballistics matched the bullet...
-Ain't necessarily what it looks like. -No?
Used to come down to the corners, real green.
Look, this is a poor fucking city, gentlemen.
Hold up, hold up.
Most of all, it needs police who know how to work those things.
No? What's that?
Don't dig in, don't get fancy.
My partner caught a murder. It may have nothing with Barksdale at all.
Bullshit, plain and simple.
just some sad-ass down at the basement of McDonald's...
Why? You think he get a percentage?
So, You got suction with Parsons?
What? Do you hear me?
What am I gonna say?
No grandstanding, no red balls.
Judge Phelan called this morning...
Shit.
-What about him? -That's Little Man.
Five oh!
Why apologize at all if you got nothing to do with it?
Why the fuck you gotta say you're sorry?
Younger white boy.
Yo, Carv. Notice that most of the time...
Church deacon? That was thick.
He just decided, voluntarily, to write a letter to the victim's family.
Just say what's in your heart.
An arrest or two would help.
Good, get up. Go! Walk!
At least that works.
Then you're gonna get all the way in, Lieutenant.
A rusted nail just went through my shoe.
-It's fucked up. -Yes, it is.
Then how come they sent every worthless hump in plainclothes?
-That's good money. -Yeah.
Go with the deuce?
and she's fucking telling us what to do.