Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

If Burrell's painting him the villain...
That'd be Shamrock.
- Well, he got to go. - No, you a fucking businessman.
And...
- It's for Russell Bell's dirty cell. - It's a good pull.
Whitey sale, whitey sale.
This is the neighborhood where a cop got shot last summer, right?
- All right? - I'm good, I'm good.
I ain't claiming no kind of victory, neither.
Bing, you just pull the number right off the cell tower.
Come on, boy, I'm calling your name.
It was a funeral parlor.
- I ain't asking. - Damn, String, I don't know...
then you got the means to put your hip into the punch.
and attest that the information contained in this document...
Is that suppose to mean something to me, man?
Us, man.
In fact, the folks downtown at Minor Privileges tell me...
They gonna say all that firepower is theirs.
A nigga step in my house, he getting dropped.
At the time, Stringer Bell was at the print shop.
If he made a mistake here, then I'm willing to pay the cost.
Now here's Shamrock returning Bodie's call.
Look like you and me both trying to make sense of this game.
Justin, come on. Come on.
- But it's safe. - WMDs, got them WMDs.
- It's me, man. - You heard from the fat man?
Get you some water, boy, and spit it out.
- You're gonna go to the press? - Not me.
This is an old game in this town, and Clay Davis?
Nigga, I got to remind you who the fuck you work for?
You should probably sell sweats with hoodies.
- That's how you were standing. - You ain't had no weight on your back foot.
with a briefcase full of drug money?
It's genius.
He wants me to turn the information over to Tony Gray...
- You're expecting what? - Payout.
who will happily put His Honor's shit in the street.
You got this headgear right here. It's new.
Clay Davis Rainmade you.
Us, motherfucker.
There'll be nothing left of it before midnight shift.
then whatever comes out of Burrell's mouth is gonna stand.
I seen your picture on them Globe posters back in the day.