Original subtitles

Previously, on "Raising Kanan"...

We the only game in town now, Kanan,

just us,

and we got shit on lock.

All you have to do is sign in each session,

and then you can leave.

Either you sit down,

or I can let the court know that you violated probation.

My child was murdered!

I know powerful people.

So you believe him when he says he doesn't remember

anything from the night he was shot?

You're Famous' manager all the time.

When are you just gonna be my girl?

Got a job for you.

That shit's waitin' on you

but not for too much longer.

I saw Worrell up the block slingin'.

Yeah, we tried to kill that nigga.

He tried to kill me.

Bring his ass in for a conversation.

And, Scrap, I need you to ease up

on throwin' them dice.

Police! Let me see your hands! Get 'em up!

I got a CI bellyachin' in interrogation two.

Couldn't believe my fuckin' ears

when I heard you might be getting released soon.

When we met, what'd I tell you, huh?

"Don't ask questions."

I need you right now, okay? Come on, come on.

Jerome, what's up, man?

Come on.

That cop, he don't remember nothin' from that night.

Brain all twisted up.

♪ I'm a hustler, baby I'm a hustler, baby ♪

♪ Yeah, I know Heartbreaks, setbacks ♪

♪ Bitch, if I crap out I'm sure I'ma get back ♪

♪ I been through the ups and Downs, you know I get around ♪

♪ So to me It's all a part of the game ♪

♪ If I ain't the coke man Or the dope man ♪

♪ I'm almost for sure, man I got to take it ♪

♪ No need to say shit I'm gon' take it ♪

♪ Robberies turned homicide It's nothin' to play with ♪

♪ Make money Make, make, make money ♪

♪ When shit hit the fan We'll take money, South side ♪

♪ Beef with the best of 'em ♪

♪ Done shot At the rest of 'em, yeah ♪

♪ Checks, I'm collectin' 'em ♪

♪ Check, boy I'm finessin' 'em ♪

♪ Bag Supreme Boy, you fuck around ♪

♪ Put a big bag on your head ♪

♪ Before the weather break You're dead ♪

♪ Let's get to it, they Don't do it like we do it ♪

♪ Nah, cop it, whip it Bag it, flip it ♪

♪ Re-up, we up G'd up, what up? ♪

♪ Runnin' round this bitch Still not givin' a fuck, hey ♪

♪ When it come to that paper There'll be no complications ♪

Ha ha. That's right.

♪ Put a hole in a nigga Right in front of you ♪

♪ Your heartbeat pacin' ♪

♪ And it's all right ♪

♪ That's how We do it on this side ♪

♪ Niggas get to it On this side ♪

♪ I know heartbreaks Setbacks ♪

♪ Bitch, if I crap out I'm sure I'ma get back ♪

♪ I been through the ups and Downs, you know I get around ♪

♪ So to me It's all a part of the game ♪

♪ If I ain't the coke man Or the dope man ♪

♪ I'm almost for sure, man I got to take it ♪

♪ No need to say shit I'm gon' take it ♪

♪ Robberies turned homicide It's nothin' to play with ♪

♪ Hey, hey ♪

Rileyy vocalizing...

Like I been sayin',

the biggest mistake any nigga ever make

is gettin' too comfortable,

kickin' they feet up,

takin' that motherfuckin' victory lap.

'Cause you ain't never safe.

Somebody always out there, watchin'.

And by the time you see him...

You know that smoking's bad for you.

...it's already too late.

So's the police.

I can't seem to get that shit out my life neither.

And if memory serves, nigga, you gave me my first cigarette.

One of my many mistakes.

What you want, Detective?

Can't lie, Raq.

I thought I was dead.

Laying here, bleedin' out.

I thought my shit was done.

And your whole damn life really does flash before your eyes.

That shit's real.

I didn't like what I saw, Raq.

Not at all.

I made a deal with God.

Let me live, I'll right my wrongs.

The kid...

he can't shoot for shit.

Mm, somebody cryin' about Cochise again.

Shit's the best part about you, Kanan.

The part that cares.

Don't ever lose that.

And don't let nobody take that shit from you either.

Shit just a movie, man. Whatever.

And you, you just a cryin'-ass bitch.

Yeah. Yeah. I'ma fuck you up, Laverne.

I ain't afraid of you, kid, not at all.

You think you got this?

Come on, Juke, do something!

Come on, Juke!

Aah!

What I want now is what I've wanted all along...

...for Kanan to know I'm his father.

Had a gang of admirers back in the day.

Truth is, I don't even know who Kanan daddy is.

Truth?

You gotta know the meaning of the word to use it, Raq.

When I brought Kanan in for that fight,

son was leakin'

and left some blood behind.

I had the lab run that shit on the low.

Paternity match...

...came back to yours truly.

And you can bullshit me all you want,

but you can't bullshit science, Raquel.

Well, fuck you and your science, nigga.

He ain't built for that road you got him on.

I saw that in his eyes that night.

The game ain't for him.

Now, I ain't gonna knock Kanan for poppin' me.

I deserved what happened that night.

Divine justice-type shit.

But I'm way past waitin' on you to tell him.

That was my big mistake,

trustin' that you would tell him for me.

I should have done it from the start,

but I thought it'd be better if he heard it from you first.

But now I'ma tell him my damn self.

Man-to-man, father to son.

I'm goin' home.

Somebody tellin', Raq.

You got a snitch.

One-eyed Jack. The gambler.

Scrap?

He workin' with us.

Saw him sittin' with a detective

at the precinct the other night.

- Bullshit. - Real shit.

And I'm only telling you this

'cause I'm trying to look out for our son.

'Cause that's what parents do, protect they kids.

Yeah.

Kanan 'bout to know, Raq.

Kanan 'bout to know.

Shit.

Where Famous at?

He here, and he about to get his ass beat by my ma

if he don't get this skeezer out the house.

But he don't wanna hear me, though.

You his friend. You save his sorry ass.

♪ Champagne 'cause I made it ♪

♪ I'm elevated ♪

♪ Rose from the concrete... ♪

Famous.

♪ I never waited For my turn... ♪

Nothin'.

Yo, Fame.

Famous.

What the...

Watch this.

Wake the fuck up.

- Mh-hmm. Yeah. - Fuck!

Fucking squeezin' my nipples and shit.

Your sister said your mother's on the way home.

And she about to have your ass.

This bitch gotta go!

I'm gone for three months,

and I come back, you out here smashing white girls

and getting all high and shit?

Three months is a long time, man.

Nigga's been maturin' and shit.

Maturin' and shit. You hear your brother?

♪ Careful with my name ♪

♪ How you mention it... ♪

Yo.

Yo!

Whatever the fuck your name is. Yo!

You don't even know what her name is?

Nah, we didn't get to all that.

Oh, shit, nigga, look like you got into a hell of a lot.

You're a disaster, Famous, a fuckin' embarrassment.

Don't matter now, though. Better start packing your shit!

- Shit! No, fuck! - Whoa.

She's not a ho, Ma. She's from NYU.

NYU are all hos.

She got locked out of her dorm,

and I was-I was trying to help her,

make sure she wouldn't sleep on the street.

I ain't lying, Ma.

...because I know you stole that money

out of my purse to buy your drugs.

Ma, you trippin' now. I ain't even do that!

You know what?

I want you out!

- What? - Out!

Go find another place to bring your put as!

Where am I gonna go? I don't have any money.

I don't know, and I don't care!

I just want you gone, Shawn!

You're gonna kick your own son out just like that?

For real, Ma? No second chances, no nothin'?

Ma. Ma!

Ms. Fig.

Fuck.

One thing that all of us

who struggle with anger have in common are triggers.

Could be someone cutting you off in traffic.

Could be someone standing too close to us on the subway.

Could be someone interrupting us

or-or talking over us.

So tell me, what are your triggers, hmm?

I don't like being ignored.

When people don't listen to me or hear me, I get angry.

Feeling unseen.

Is there anyone else here who gets angry

when they don't feel heard or acknowledged?

See?

You're not alone, Gerald.

Anybody else wanna share what triggers their anger?

When people lie, I get pissed.

Too pissed, even if it's my kids.

No one likes it when someone lies to them.

But the challenge here isn't the anger itself

but, rather, the intensity of the anger.

Everybody hear that?

Anger is not the problem.

Everyone gets angry.

It's how we manage it that's our challenge.

And what about you, Marvin?

What are your triggers?

Yes, Marvin, you.

I'm straight. Ain't got no triggers.

I'm good.

You wouldn't be sitting here with the rest of us

if you were good.

I'm ignoring you, Joe...

...'cause I know you love that shit.

Fuck you.

Still ignoring you, motherfucker.

And I ain't seein' you.

I'll kick your ass right here,

right fucking now!

I wish you'd try.

All right, all right, that's enough.

Let's not lose our heads here.

Or our hair.

Sit down, Gerald.

Yeah, sit down, G.

I'm gonna let you slide today...

...Marvin,

but you are not off the hook,

not by a long shot.

So getting back to what triggers us...

Hey, you seen Kanan?

Mm... he over at Famous'.

Well, if you see him before me,

you let him know I'm looking for him.

Trying to keep better track of your cousin

now that he's home.

If I see him, I'll tell him.

All right. Thank you, baby.

Um...

...do you...

you remember my mom at all?

Of course.

What you remember about her?

Well, Kenya was a hell of a good singer,

just like you.

And she gave you that gift.

And then she bounced.

Look... it's a lot, Juke,

being somebody's mother.

I mean...

you bring a baby into this world, and...

then it's all on you.

Fathers matter.

I mean, I'm not saying they don't, but...

mothers, we create life.

And that shit is a lot of responsibility,

and it ain't for everybody.

Not everybody up for the job.

So... that's why my mom left me.

She wasn't feeling cut out for the job.

I mean...

...look, I ain't ever talked to her about it.

But yeah, um...

I mean, I think she knew that she wasn't cut out

to be a mother.

Figured it was best if she got out the mix.

I almost understand that.

Maybe even respect it a little bit.

I can't.

Shit.

I can't neither.

She missed out,

'cause you're incredible.

And I love you.

Come here.

See you later.

For months now, I have tried very hard

to come up with a rational explanation

for why you instructed those officers

to free the person who murdered my daughter.

I'm sorry for your loss, Mrs. Bingham. I really am.

But Laverne Thomas did not murder your daughter.

She gave Nicole the drugs.

She showed her how to use them,

which is no different than pointing a loaded gun

at my daughter's head and pulling the trigger.

Look, I've reviewed the case file,

and there's no evidence that suggests

that Laverne Thomas provided the drugs

that killed Nicole Bingham.

What does the mayor say?

Does he have an opinion on this?

Well, I-I'm not here today to speak for the mayor.

He told me that you and your husband

are acquaintances of his,

and he asked me simply to observe these proceedings.

I want her fired.

She should not be a police officer.

Our officers often have informal arrangements

with the people in the neighborhoods they police,

but I can assure you that no officer in this department

would protect a suspect in a murder.

As far as I'm concerned,

you all have my daughter's blood on your hands.

Thanks for having my back, Captain.

I'm looking out for the department, Burke, not you.

You should never have stuck your nose in this mess.

From where I'm sitting,

looks to me like you fucked this all up.

Go!

Yo, whoever's speaking this shit

got it wrong.

Wasn't Scrappy in that precinct.

Yeah, well, how many one-eyed motherfuckers

walkin' around South Jamaica, Lou?

Early Tyler uncle got one eye.

Lost the other shit in a fight out in Ozone Park.

Yeah, well, Early Tyler uncle 100 years old, in a wheelchair,

and can't feel the left side of his face.

Actually, that shit's starting

to come back to life a little bit.

Saw him at the barber a few weeks back.

Lip was moving a little bit on the left side.

Scrap ain't no snitch.

You know, a lot of niggas get caught

behind them cards and dice,

make bets they can't cover.

I told him to stay away from that shit.

Scrap bled for us, Raq.

He lost his fuckin' eye for us.

Maybe that's why he pissed off behind that shit.

Look, we not makin' no decisions yet.

We gonna need to know more.

Marvin, you talk to Scrappy.

Feel him out.

See what he gotta say.

Told my mama I'm meeting with you all, so...

if I don't walk outta here,

she gonna know it was you.

Well, if we wanted you dead, you'd be gone already, nigga.

Sit the fuck down.

I mean, fuck it, like,

I'll sleep in- in the-in the-in the bathroom.

Just throw a blanket in the tub, like...

We already got Juke at the house.

Like I-like I said, man, if it was up to just me,

hell yeah, you could come stay at the crib.

But my mother not going for that shit.

She only want family stayin' at the spot.

Man, I need to get some fuckin' money, man,

try and stay in a room for a minute.

What you think about hustlin' up my mix tapes,

sellin' them shits?

Famous, them shits didn't move before.

Why the fuck would they move now?

My lyricism was ahead of its time, okay?

Heads need to catch the fuck up.

And you think they all caught up now?

I'm not tryin' to sleep on the fuckin' train, a'ight?

All I got to my name is a bag of funky-ass clothes

and a gang of mix tapes that we might be able to sell,

unless you got a better idea.

All right, then.

So why y'all wanna fuck with me?

And why would I wanna fuck with y'all?

South side ours, Worrell.

I mean, you might be doing a half day's business

a couple times a week on one of them tired corners,

but that's about as good as it's gonna get for you, son.

I mean, you just-you just picking up our scraps.

But maybe you thinking that now that 'Nique out the joint,

he gonna pick up where he left off, right?

That shit gonna get better?

Nah, son.

Your man radioactive.

'Nique shit deader than dead.

Deen ain't gonna sell to him.

Nobody gonna fuck with him.

You steady starvin', nigga.

But you still ain't even answer my first question.

Why y'all wanna mess with me?

'Cause we got a lot of history between us,

and ain't none of it good.

History's the past, Worrell.

We here talkin' about the future.

We know you a hell of an earner,

that you on your business,

and we feel like...

you could add some value to what we trying to do.

And you hungry-ass niggas

all runnin' around roughshod out there,

bumpin' into each other, breakin' shit...

That noise bring police.

And police bad for everybody business.

You gonna be under Lou at our new spot

over at the Forties.

And you good with that?

We ain't datin', nigga.

We workin'.

I said it before, but now that I'm here,

these shits really feel like they been warmed over.

That's all I got, man.

Y'all delinquents robbin' my fuckin' place?

Nah, man. What's up, Uncle Lou?

What's good?

Fame's mother actually kicked him out the crib.

And he came up here 'cause he think

he might be able to sell the rest of these tapes,

get some rent money up.

Obviously, he gonna give you your cut too.

Yo, fuck it.

It's yours.

I already, uh, wrote the shit off anyway.

Word?

Yo, come here.

You need some new flows, man.

Just like I told your sister, stop smoking weed.

Put something on paper.

You bring me something good, then...

I'll put you back in the studio.

- Word? - Word is bond.

No doubt.

Peace, Nephew.

Thanks again, Unc.

I put down the traps and the poison,

but the rats are too many.

Guess I got rat problems all over right about now.

Throw out the shit that's been eaten,

and put some more traps down.

I would have to change them ten times a day.

Call an exterminator, Juliana.

You have all this money sitting here.

Why don't you spend it?

Now, I save my money to buy a home

for my family in my country, and...

you save your money to be eaten by rats?

Get an exterminator out here.

Hip-hop music plays...

♪ Smokin' cocaine With all her friends ♪

♪ Smokin' cocaine With all her friends ♪

♪ Smokin' cocaine With all her friends... ♪

Bro, these are jumbos. Make 'em look like jumbos.

How you livin', Scrap?

Large as fuck, nigga.

Movin' this weight, makin' this money.

Couldn't raise you last night.

Had a pickup.

I was, uh, helpin' my peoples out in Corona

put some shit up on the walls.

Yo, who the fuck trustin'

your one eye to hang up something?

Motherfucker got paintings up all crooked

and-and-and-and twisted and shit.

You should've called the new guy,

Worrell, to help you out last night.

I'm sure that nigga's always available.

Word travel fast, yeah?

Especially when heads hear your peoples

gettin' in the bed with the same nigga

who cost you half your fuckin' eyes.

Uh-oh.

Somebody's feelings gettin' hurt out here.

Ain't about feelings, Marvin.

Shit was bad enough when Kanan came in.

But I made peace with that.

That's Raq's kid, and, hell,

I actually like the little nigga.

But y'all givin' Forty Projects to Unique's boy instead of me?

I been down with y'all niggas since I was 14!

Lookin' out, baggin', soldierin', hustlin', cookin'.

Whatever needed to get done, I done done it!

You know what?

On the real...

...it ain't easy

hangin' pictures with one eye.

Fact, it ain't easy tyin' my shoes,

seein' street signs, or doing damn near anything

with one fuckin' eye.

I gave that shit up for y'all niggas

and still came back swingin'.

But here I am passed the fuck over for 'Nique's guy?

So who you hangin' pictures for out in Corona?

Yo, didn't even know you had peoples out there.

My cousin Ebony. Fuck does it matter?

Don't matter.

Y'all doing me wrong, Marvin,

and you know this.

Yo, we got you, Scrap.

Don't even trip.

Four bedrooms, three full baths.

Colonial on a quiet street in Hollis.

It's a steal at that price.

What about Forest Hills, Douglas ton, Little Neck?

I think you'll find those neighborhoods are pricier.

What, it look like I can't afford them?

Oh, of course not, no.

Sometimes buyers don't understand

they need to have strong credit

to secure preapproval for a mortgage from a lender.

- I'm paying cash. - Oh, wonderful!

Fantastic.

Uh, but just to be clear,

you'll still need proof of income,

your last two years' tax returns, at least,

and bank statements.

I got all that.

You just make sure that you find me a spot

in one of them pricier neighborhoods

you're talking about.

Yeah?

You, uh, Miss Ebony, right?

Who asking?

New handyman in the area.

Your neighbors up the block was sayin'

you might got some work that need doin'.

Sayin' you got your cousin or somethin'

hangin' pictures and shit.

I don't talk to my neighbors,

and I don't talk to no cousins neither,

so who the hell are you?

'Cause you don't look like no handyman to me.

Where your tools and your work belt?

I don't walk around with that heavy shit on me.

I'm just saying that, you know,

maybe you-you have some gutters that need cleanin'

or lines that need flushin'

or paintings that need hanging.

Last shit I put up on my wall was a Thriller poster.

That was 1982.

Well, if you get a poster for the new MJ record,

let me know.

Wait, where you goin'? What's your name?

You got a card?

What type of handyman drive a Lexus?

Mellow R&B music playing...

♪ You and I together Till the very end ♪

I just don't hear it.

Then you ain't listenin'.

This girl is the next, next shit.

She gonna change the game.

- We signing her. - No. No, we not.

Lou, this a partnership, a democracy and shit.

That means we-we both gotta believe in the artist.

What are you listening to?

Seeing as I'm financin' this fuckin' democracy,

my vote counts more than yours, correct?

I guess it...

Yes, sir. Yes, sir. Yes, sir!

Cartier "Duns" Fareed.

My man was a motherfuckin' shootin' star.

Big, bright, lit up the fuckin'sky.

Had vision beyond the game...

Music, art, uptown, downtown.

His money was so clean, you could eat off that shit.

Well, if it isn't Lou-Lou Thomas,

the fast-talkin' pretty nigga

who thinks he can roll up on my niece at a red light

with all that light-skinned smoothness of his.

Cartier Fareed is officially up in the building.

Hey, Zisa, why you ain't tell me he was your uncle?

I for sure would've kept driving.

I'm not his niece.

Cartier Fareed.

Crown Camacho.

Cartier Fareed is in that import-export thing.

He's a top-of-the-food-chain- type motherfucker, huh?

And I'm still hungry. Now, look here, niggas.

I'ma make this short, sweet, and nonnegotiable.

I've got this small music management group

that I've been evolving slowly but strategically.

A collection of carefully curated artists

that I can hone, train, and guide.

And Zisa here,

she's the cream of the proverbial crop.

Look, I see you got a fledgling operation in here,

but it's highly unlikely that you can give Zisa

the long-term and lucrative deal that she deserves.

But I know Lou from Lanes

and all the other hot spots that we hit.

I propose

that we do something that will

be equitable for all sides.

A single deal.

Together, we will develop, produce,

and release a track for Zisa.

See how it feels.

Feel each other out.

Test the waters, as it may be.

This nigga done?

I'm done, motherfucker.

You said a single deal, right?

Now, that doesn't guarantee

that Zisa stays on our label if she blows up.

- Crown Camacho. - Mh-hmm.

Macho time. You any relation to Hector?

Man, me and that motherfucker, man,

we done had some wild nights.

This ain't got shit to do with no Hector.

Well, look, man, maybe we could build somethin' into the deal.

Certain thresholds get cleared,

we'll sign to the label.

Done.

What the fuck?

Single deal's for suckers, yo.

I said... it's on.

Like Farrakhan.

Yo, I'm tellin' you, you really need

to check out this fix,

Puerto Rican Famous.

I'm... no, come on.

- It's hot. - Hey.

Yo, you like music?

Look, I got this dope MC.

You gotta check out his mix tape, man,

Puerto Rican Famous.

He like the next LL for real right here.

- Nah, I'm good. - Look, I'll do two for one.

Two for one.

Three for one. Come on, now. Gimme somethin'.

I like how you wearin' that.

How you sellin' my shit three for one?

Three for one, fucking two for one,

nigga, a hundred for one,

nobody want these shits right now.

Nigga, I moved a tape.

You traded that for a hit off a blunt.

What are you boys sellin'?

Just mix tapes, man.

All right, the both of you, up against the wall.

What the fuck's a mix tape?

It's music. I'm a fucking rapper.

Hear that? He's a rapper.

Hey, what the fuck are you doing?

And what's your rap name, rapper?

- Famous. - Famous the rapper

is selling his mix tapes on the corner.

'Cause that's where the best rappers sell their mix tapes.

Supposed to have a vendor's license

to sell anything on the street.

But seeing as you two ain't doing much sellin',

we're gonna let you slide.

Good luck with your rap career, Famous.

You told me all I was gonna need to do

was to sign into those classes, then I could bounce.

This broad tellin' me

I gotta sit through the shit every fuckin' week.

Uh, some of the instructors

are more willing to play ball than others.

This one don't give a fuck about no ball.

I tracked down your friend

who was working as an informant for the police.

There she is. Toni Deep.

She's engaged to be married to a dentist out in Westchester.

Ah.

Your bitch does have some nice-ass teeth.

I mean, they hurt, but...

she left the skin on there.

She lives in Harlem.

Moved back here about three years ago from Los Angeles.

Divorced twice, no kids.

That's where she live?

A'ight.

You owe me.

Well, try as I might,

I don't remember shit from that night.

Nothin' at all.

Yeah, and we got nothing on our end.

The blood on the jacket we took off of Kadeem Mathis,

street name Unique,

didn't match you or him.

And believe it or not,

his story checks out, you know?

We got him on camera at the McDonald's drive-through

at the time of the shooting.

We're not done with him yet.

We still think he knows more than he's letting on,

but at this point, we can't even classify him as a lead.

Yeah, but we will make his life miserable nonetheless.

You know why?

Because I don't need a reason. Fuck him.

Right now, all we got is some crackhead

who was high as a fucking kite

who thinks he remembers seeing a kid

but can't give us any real description.

We're not giving up, though. Not even close.

We just wanted to let you know where things stand.

I appreciate that.

Wish I could help, fellas.

Thank you.

We'll keep you posted.

All right.

That guy's my fuckin' hero.

Yeah.

A fucking NYPD Hall of Famer right there, huh?

♪ Come a little closer To me... ♪

Hey.

What's up, Ma?

My fault, I ain't even see you back there.

Where you been?

Me and Famous had a day.

It probably ain't a bad idea

for you to let me know where you are,

'cause I'm your mother.

I get worried.

Yeah, I got it.

I just wanna make sure that you safe.

What's wrong, Ma?

It's nothin'.

Somethin' is up.

A'ight, I know you not just trying to know where I'm at

on some straight motherly concern.

Talk to me. What's up?

Just that crazy-ass cop.

Howard.

Somehow, someway,

his brain got all twisted up, and...

he talkin' some crazy-ass nonsense,

some shit that don't even make no sense.

And it's possible that he might step to you talkin' that shit.

I just wanna give you a heads-up.

Look, now, he might not say anything to you at all,

so it's not even worth getting into right now.

But just know that if he does

that it's just a crazy police who got his head all dented.

I thought you said he didn't even remember

what happened that night.

Thought you said he didn't remember my face, Ma.

- What is this? - He don't know

what he remembers or what he forgot, Kanan.

You're good, baby.

I got you.

We good.

No. What I said was that he could stay here a night

when he got out, that's all.

I'm not keeping Jerome from his daddy, Ma.

A father provides.

A father works.

A father take care of their own.

What's he doing but sitting around here

taking up space, eating my food?

You know, I don't remember you complainin'

back when I was payin' your rent,

buyin' your cars, huh?

Sendin' you and your broke-ass church friends to AC

every weekend, huh?

But I was a provider then, right?

Right?

I saw Raq today

at the bodega on Sutphin.

What Raq talkin' about?

She not talkin' about anything, 'Nique.

She was just... I mean, she just stared at me.

It scared me...

for all of us... For me, you, and Jerome.

Raq ain't gonna do nothin' to us, a'ight?

How do you know?

Look.

I can't say 100-100% that Scrap bullshittin'...

...but I checked out his cousin in Corona,

and it sure as hell didn't sound like

he was out there hangin' shit.

So he lyin'.

Maybe.

If we ain't for sure, we don't move on him.

I got somebody on the inside

who say they saw Scrap up in the precinct talkin'.

That shit alone is enough to make the call, Lou.

Then why send Marvin to talk to him

and do all that undercover bullshit?

'Cause I wanna be sure, Lou.

Marvin ain't sure.

Right, Marvin?

Like I said, don't put this shit on me.

I told you what I told you.

I won't fuck with it. Hell no.

Okay, well, if the shit is true,

Scrap could put us all away forever.

Lose everything, includin' your fuckin' precious music.

Tell you one thing.

I ain't doin' it.

I ain't swingin' this time.

G57.

57G.

B1. B1.

Nigga, I'm here to see Deen, nigga.

Fuck is you?

Deen don't meet with nobody

but friends and family.

And you neither, nigga.

Well, he gonna wanna see me.

How you gonna do that with my motherfuckin' pistol

in your mouth, huh?

Hey, hey, hey.

That's not necessary, Efrem.

Get off me, little-ass nigga.

This nigga must've forgot who the fuck I am, man.

Ain't nobody's forgotten you, 'Nique.

We'd just rather not remember.

You gonna need some bigger soldiers, Deen.

Fit this nigga in my pocket.

Look, I'll hit you with a 30% premium

when I'm back up on top,

which won't be long.

I'm already sizin' up corners out here.

You're not a safe investment, 'Nique.

Not now or anytime in the near distant future.

Look, I ain't shoot that cop, man.

That's-that's why they let me out,

'cause they ain't got shit on me.

And yet, according to my sources,

NYPD continues to consider you a person of interest.

Well, maybe they interested in me

'cause I'm an interesting motherfucker, Deen.

But I definitely ain't pop that pig.

G48, G48, 48.

It's G48, Grandma.

Raq and her Colombian supplier

have cornered the market in your old stomping grounds.

There's no room for competition...

Not for me or for you.

I'm only competition if I don't win.

But I'm gonna win, Deen.

Oh, my gosh, 63.

I just need the assist, a'ight?

I'm a little fucked up right now.

But I ain't never asked you for a favor like this.

Desperation doesn't suit you, 'Nique.

G1.

Let's go.

- You makin' a mistake, Deen. - Let's go.

The fuck off me.

You fuckin' up, Deen!

You fuckin' up, man!

♪ One day We're gonna wake up ♪

♪ What gets us all around... ♪

Hey. Hey, hey.

Hey, hey, hey.

♪ All my friends ♪

♪ Have you ever seen... ♪

What?

I'm moving, Lou.

To LA.

Crown got me a job at a management company out there.

LA, Crown? What the fuck is you talkin' 'bout?

I'm goin' tomorrow.

Crown got you a job in Los Angeles

and you're leaving tomorrow?

You know, I wasn't even planning

on telling you about this

because I knew we was gonna fight about it,

and I'm just so done fightin' wit' you.

But I thought it'd be mad fucked up

if I just left, so I'm telling you now.

This motherfucker Crown.

It's not on Crown, Lou. I asked him to help me.

He didn't just do it on his own,

so don't blame him.

You bouncin' on Fame too?

Famous is gonna do whatever he gonna do.

He don't need my help anymore anyway.

Yeah, maybe because he figured out

that you was gonna kick his ass to the curb

soon as you got your shot

at being all Beverly Hills and shit.

I gotta look out for myself

because no one else is gonna do it.

Get the fuck out my studio.

♪ Oh ♪

♪ Do you ever see A man break down? ♪

Fuck!

Look what they did to me, man.

Look at what they did to us.

I was gonna call you right when I got out, but...

I figured I'd get some things in order first.

Deen ain't fuckin' with me right now, man.

Feel like I'm lookin' in from the outside.

Look, I need you back on my team, Worrell.

Strength in numbers, my nigga.

Come on, we gotta get the team back together, man.

I'm onto other shit, 'Nique.

Different opportunity.

Can't ride with you this time.

What, you on Raq's dick, nigga?

Ain't nothin' left for you on the South side, man.

Maybe...

it's time to go.

Nah.

I decide when I wanna go, Worrell.

Ain't nobody forcin' me off these blocks...

Not the police, not Raq,

damn sure not you, nigga.

I'm here.

I ain't going nowhere.

Well, I ain't going nowhere

wit' you...

...brother.

I'll be back to visit soon.

No. There's nothing here for you or anybody else.

You go there to Los Angeles, and you stay there.

Okay.

Okay?

Okay.

Promise me you won't give up on your music?

Think I'ma give up 'cause you leavin'?

Man, fuck that.

Started this shit without you.

I'ma blow up without you.

Good. I want you to blow up.

I love you.

Where to, miss?

Uh, JFK, terminal two.

She on the way to the airport, huh?

Who gives a fuck?

I knew you niggas would come correct and do what's right.

And you know I'ma have that new lab

runnin' like goddamn clockwork,

'cause that's how I do.

Yo, that's it?

That's-that's the new spot?

Whoo!

And we gonna be feedin' Baisley and the Forties from here.

Yeah, word.

Yo, let's do this, then.

That's what I'm talkin' 'bout.

Takin' care of your man with a new job and big raise?

I ain't gonna let you down either.

This spot is gonna be puttin' out that good work.

Whoo!

I likes.

I likes.

Mm. Got room to breathe in here.

Yeah, not bad.

Not too bad. Not too bad at all.

Nah.

Nah...

Sometime there ain't shit to say.

Ain't no lesson to learn.

So let me just shut the fuck up.

♪ So you wanna be A gangster, all that shit ♪

♪ Smoke any motherfucker Don't even trip ♪

♪ You be hard as hell Take whatever you want ♪

♪ Punk suckers wanna front They get done ♪

♪ 'Cause you a gangster Nothin' more, nothin' less ♪

♪ Put my boy to the test And catch one in your chest ♪

♪ Since he was young Homeboy won't back down ♪

♪ 'Cause real gangsters Always hold that frown ♪

♪ Until you lose control Then you sell your soul ♪

♪ To the devil, motherfucker 'Cause you're way too cold ♪

♪ And all the people hide And just run inside ♪

♪ 'Cause you keep usin' Yo' gat, committin' homicide ♪

♪ Boy, I tell ya Life is way too short ♪

♪ Another brother Just got smoked ♪

♪ And you killed him ♪

♪ Ain't that a bitch? ♪

♪ 'Cause it really Ain't shit ♪

♪ Gangsters, gangsters ♪

♪ Shoot 'em up ♪

♪ Gangsters ♪

♪ That ain't cool ♪

♪ Gangsters ♪

♪ Ain't that a bitch? ♪

♪ Gangsters ♪

♪ Shoot 'em up ♪

♪ Gangsters ♪

♪ That ain't cool ♪

♪ Gangsters ♪

♪ Let me tell you somethin' Youngster ♪

♪ You got it all wrong ♪

♪ Gangsters don't live That long ♪