Original subtitles

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(bright soft music) (glass shatters)

Official YIFY movies site: YTS.MX

(car engine rumbling)

(bright upbeat music)

- Yo, Floyd, your man gonna be here tonight or what, man?

- Man, who you talking to, dog?

My man is working the door, I ain't no standing in line,

no cover charge, VIP all the way.

Yo Jay, is that the good shit right there?

- Yeah.

- Well, then puff puff give motherfucker.

- There you go.

- Why don't you puff puff get your own shit?

- For once nigga, damn, what the fuck do you do?

Run outta that $40 bag of dirt shit

you've been smoking, Floyd? (phone rings)

- Man, you've been smoking what?

Clarence, what's up with your cousin?

What, you ain't smoke weed?

- Nah man, Damon don't need that shit, man,

he already think on a higher level.

Now me, I need that shit.

- Yo, problem.

- What's wrong man.

- Caesar said the Nevins ass niggas ain't paying up.

- Word? - Word.

- Motherfuckers, man.

- Hey, hold on, hey, hold on,

this ain't even the way to the club.

Blacks on my hoods and ghetto

Hot projects and metals

Put your guns up

North, south, east to west

- Hey, come on, man, why are you pulling over here, man?

We gotta get to the club by midnight

else we gonna miss the drink, stuff and shit,

we gonna miss the whole... - Shut the fuck up, Floyd,

all right?

Damn!

Come on, man.

- Now?

- No Ice Cube, next fucking Friday, yeah, now,

what the fuck is wrong with you?

- Fuck man, yo, what about your cousin?

- Nah, nah, he can stay here, man,

I'm just gonna run in here and

put a scare in him, a warning or some shit, all right?

Come on, quit acting like a bitch and come on.

Fuck it, slide your punk ass over here and drive me, man.

The fuck. - This shit means stuff.

- Yo, Damon, I'll be right back, all right,

you wait right here. - All right,

do your thing.

Calm down, Floyd, chill.

- Now, every time- - Man, Floyd, Floyd!

Smoke this and calm your motherfucking ass.

- I mean, these fools like to go out

shooting motherfuckers ass, I don't understand that.

- All right, man, we going there, man,

chill.

(gun bangs) Oh, shit!

(tense music) (gun bangs)

- Go! - Oh, shit,

come on, come on, come on.

Get in, get in, get in.

(tires screeching) (guns banging)

(glass shatters) - Damn!

- Yeah, go. - We'll kill you motherfucker.

(man laughs) - Oh, shit!

- The fuck!

(tense music) (men laughing)

- What the fuck was that?

What kind of warning was that, Clarence?

- Your (indistinct) is wild.

- He probably piss his pants, I know it,

yo, Damon, you aint gonna tell your mom about this, huh?

Damon.

(soft somber music)

Damon. - What?

- Oh, fuck, Damon!

- [Sway] So, what's the deal, Philadelphia's WBST,

it's your man, Sway, spread that brotherly love.

Next up, we got some homegrown flavor

straight outta Kingsbridge,

number one record in the street,

Philadelphia's finest, Prolifik with that "Mind Games,"

he's doing it really big right now,

you got it first right here, WBST.

This life about guns, money and hoes

This life about cars, jewelry and clothes

This life about sex, lies and oh

This life about sell weed and clothes

This life about guns, money and hoes

This life about cars, jewelry and clothes

This life about sex, lies and oh

This life about what

This life about

My life is more than me and the clothes on my back

Ice burg, Gucci shit, keep all that

I'ma lay it down flat, I'm not here to floss

A lot of my men paying with their lives to be the boss

We all brand the streets, carry the brown heat

Went through the worst parts to get to Brand suite

Deep in the game that ain't got no love

And many that lost their minds all to the throne

I know thugs who used to push bricks, smoke nicks

Floss the fliers with damn nigga shit

Step on the block thinking back how they had it locked

Dem days is over now and they see him through the rock

These streets don't play, I know that he's a killer

It's not a good sight to see if nigga getting to the grip

Sit out here rip, seeing it all happen

He's just pumped up drugs and stuff

And that the size that describes

This life about guns, money and hoes

This life about cars, jewelry and clothes

This life about sex, lies and oh

This life about sell weed and clothes

This life about guns, money and hoes

This life about cars, jewelry and clothes

This life about sex, lies and oh

This life about what

This life about

I love life more than Jerry dough

I love life more than burnt out hoes

I fell for the streets, staying low with the heat

I'd been through the war nigga, ain't shit sweet

Seen the good times and went through the worst

One point in time I thought I was a curse

Couldn't flow so that I suppose that felt dead

It's cold as fuck and I'm in a cell

That's why I smoke Ls and live life day to day

Love is love, feel it feels, then you pay the price

Niggas pay the latter, me I ain't quit it

Some dudes like to floss me I just come and get it

Play strip poker, without no cards

One gun pulls clear, get ready to meet

(car door slams)

(TV chattering) (door clicks)

(remote clatters)

(footsteps clumping)

- [Machine] You have one new message, first message.

- [Officer] Hi, this is the attendance officer

at Overbrook High School,

I'm calling in regards to Erik Triggs.

Erik... (machine beeps)

- [Machine] Message erased.

(uptempo music)

- Malik, don't you ever knock?

- Front door was unlocked, do you wanna hit this?

Yeah, you bet, let me play my new joint, all right?

(bright soft music)

Say my name niggas

Yeah, dope baby Say my name

Is my shit the bomb or what?

(bright upbeat music)

- It's the bomb, Malik.

- Nino Brown

- What?

- Look, I keep telling you, all right,

from now on, it's Nino Brown.

you know, like that dude in New Jack City.

- Right.

- All right, you know things is a little lean right now,

do you know what my rhyme this skill,

I'm gonna get paid real soon,

and you ought to think about managing me.

- Maybe, let's see what you do with your demo tape,

you finish it?

- Close, man, I'm close.

Still got a few things to finish.

The problem is I need more studio time.

- I thought Ricky B was hooking you up.

- Me and Ricky B ain't really vibing right now.

- [Erik] And why's that?

- Kind of gotta do with his sister.

- (laughs) Oh, no, you didn't.

Please, tell me you didn't.

- Hey yo, I can't help these magnetic charms,

shawtys be up on me like bees on honey.

Yeah, though, all I need is a few more hours in the studio.

If only I have some dough though

- Why don't you get a job.

- Man, Hip hop is my profession,

I ain't got time to be supersizing no fries.

E, you were a player at Ill Wax.

- So?

- So then, don't they got that recording studio,

the Hit Palace? - Mm hmm.

- So, then hook me up.

Then we can roll in there, turn the hit out

it's me and you, all right?

- I don't know.

Look, I gotta break out.

- Whoa, whoa, where are you off to?

Ain't tell me you skipping school again.

- Nah, I gotta go hook up with Cheryl over the Ill Wax.

- All right, while you down there,

you know, start spreading the word,

you can be like, ah, that kid's shit amazing, you know?

- (chuckles) Cool, hey check you later, Malik.

- I told you, it's Nino.

(bright upbeat music)

(car engine roars) (bright upbeat music)

- You tell that ignorant asshole,

he can kiss my ass if he ever thinks

he's gonna see another dime on my fucking money.

(footsteps clumping) (faint soft music)

- Hey sugar. - Hi Bobby.

- How you doing, what do you got for me?

- Johnnie Marandino called twice.

- Ah, twice.

- Midas is in your office.

- Yes, how you doing? - Good.

- Morning, everybody,

morning, what's that smell (sniffs)?

I smell money, money.

Ooh, Ms. Cheryl Bennett.

- Bobby.

- You know, sometimes I think you're too fine

to be a marketing director,

what do you say I make you the next big R&B diva?

- So, what's the word on the new Prolifik album?

- How about I give you three, guaranteed smash fucking hit.

I'm expecting half a million pre-orders today.

You know, you play your cards right,

and I see something very big in your future.

- They'll be pepper spray in your future

if you don't take your hand off my ass.

- Oh, oh.

(footsteps clumping)

(upbeat hip hop music)

(remote clatters)

I heard these beats last week,

when am I gonna hear the completed album?

- Oh, hopefully by Christmas.

- You're telling me two months?

- At least. - No, uh-uh,

totally fucking unacceptable.

This goddamn record

was supposed to be mixed a week ago, Midas.

- Bobby, I'm trying man,

but all I get is one or two takes out of him,

then he's all getting blunted with his boys, man,

yesterday, he didn't even show up.

Look, Bobby, man, I know you think this Prolifik had

something special, man, but if you asked me.

- Hey, I didn't ask you.

He's got the number one rap single

in the fuckin' country, man,

it's obvious this guy's got the goods.

- Oh man, I'm trying everything I can, dude.

- Try harder!

This guy, he's a little rough around the edges, you know,

he's like an uncut diamond,

you need to take him and shape him and polish him.

You wanna coax the talent outta him.

- (laughs) You know, man,

Prolifik ain't down to being coaxed.

Man, the other day asked him to retake a verse over,

then he threw a 40 at me. (phone beeps)

- [Jessica] Bobby, call on line two.

- I'm fucking busy!

- [Jessica] It's Johnnie Marandino.

- Oh, fuck me.

(Bobby exhales)

Hey, Dino, what's up.

- [Dino] Bobby, what the fuck is going on here?

So, I know I've been calling you

and you haven't returned my call.

(upbeat hip hop music) (zipper grinds)

(footsteps clumping) (upbeat hip hop music)

- Erik, what are you doing at my desk?

- Just downloading my latest work for your approval,

check this one out.

- Erik, you're insane,

no one told you to snipe the art museum.

- City of Philadelphia may call it vandalism,

I like to call it artist promotion.

- Yeah, well, I don't wanna be getting any more fines, okay,

so, just stick to telephone poles.

(computer beeps) (faint upbeat music)

Damn, Erik, you covered a lot of ground.

- Took me most of the night but for Prolifik, it's worth it.

Now, you think you could hook me up

on an advanced copy of his new album?

- It's not done yet,

but when it is, you'll be the first to get one.

Oh, that reminds me,

we printed up some posters

for the show Prolifik is doing at Club Mecca,

do you think you can throw some up tonight?

- No problem,

I'll just do the other side of the art museum.

- That's not funny, Erik. (Erik laughs)

Just stay here, I'll see if they came in.

- All right.

(footsteps clumping)

(Erik sighs)

- [Receptionist] Ill Wax Records, please hold.

- Hey yo, I'm gonna talk to Starr.

- [Receptionist] Do you have an appointment?

- Fuck an appointment, tell him I wanna talk now.

- You're late boo,

they got your picture all up on the motherfucking wall.

- Bobby.

Clarence Ubanks. (Prolific scoffs)

I mean, Prolifik.

He's here.

- [Bobby] I'm fucking busy.

- Okay, Bobby.

He's in a meeting right now,

you could try back after lunch.

(footsteps clumping) (faint upbeat music)

- Look, I'm telling you,

we're sitting on a fucking gold mine here.

Yeah, look, I know it's taking

a little bit longer than I said it would,

but I just saw Midas this morning and he assured me that

the record will be done in a few days.

Yeah, okay, great.

Hey look, let me go,

you tell that beautiful wife of yours I said, Hey.

Speaking of the man, Prolifik, I'm glad you're here,

we gotta discuss a few things.

- You damn right, we do,

it's time for you to cut me another

motherfucking check, Starr,

I ain't have no cash since I signed this fucking deal.

Fuck you looking at, man?

- Whoa, Prolifik, chill out, man.

We paid you a nice healthy advance

with the second payment due upon delivery of an

album, remember?

Album, yeah.

- That shit should have been done a long time ago, man,

I did that track over like 50 times for this nigga here.

- Whoa, whoa,

whoa, man, we'll record that shit over a hundred times

if that's what it takes to get it right,

and I don't know,

maybe you can remember your own damn lyrics.

- Lyrics?

Lyrics ain't the problem, you're just a whack ass bitch,

like garbage. - Okay, man.

Fuck this, man, I can't work with this hoodlum.

- Hoodlum?

Who the fuck do you think you're talking to, man?

- What, what? - Whoa, whoa, whoa,

hey, break that up, break that up.

- I'm a professional, man.

(all speaking)

- That's enough! - Get your hands off me, man!

- Back up. - Shut the fuck up.

- Hey, Prolifik, you got a beef about your payments,

then I suggest you take another look at the contract,

that is, if you ever bothered to read it

in the first fucking place.

I swear to Christ every time

one of these hood rats gets a record deal,

you'd think they'd won the lotto.

You have no understanding of the intricate process.

- Intricate process?

The fuck is you talking about?

That's some intricate bullshit, Starr, you know it, man.

Fuck that, man, maybe it's true what they said about you,

maybe you're some type of fancy talking con artist

or some bullshit.

- Whoa, whoa, whoa, hey, Clarence,

I was creating hits

back when you were hustling rocks on the corner.

(footsteps clumping)

You know, it's time for you, Clarence,

to step up and deliver, so, if I were you,

I would just do the Harlem shuffle

right out this fucking office

and right over to the Hit Palace, move in if you have to,

because if I don't have the completed album

on this desk but in one fucking week,

you're history, are we clear, Clarence?

Hmm?

- Fuck you, man, come on.

(upbeat hip hop music)

Made this damn label, man, fuck you looking at?

Speech, man.

- [JD] I told you to do this shit the old way,

now, this nigga telling you to move into studio,

what kind of shit is that?

Meet public enemy number one

Five-O said freeze

Meet public enemy number one

Five-O said freeze

Meet public enemy number one

Five-O said freeze

(paper rustling) (faint hip hop music)

- (sighs) Here you go.

- Cool, cool, cool.

Check you later, Cheryl.

- All right, stay outta trouble.

- Can't make any promises. (Cheryl chuckles)

- [Prolifik] This nigga, Starr,

was a sheisty motherfucker, man, I knew it.

- [JD] That nigga would have been talking to me like that.

- [Prolifik] I should have got more money upfront, man.

- [JD] Told you that, man, told you that.

- You'd be talking a lot of shit, you know.

Fuck is you looking at?

- Nothing.

It's just I'm your number one fan, that's all.

- Word. - Word.

Man, a year ago I was taping your tracks off the BSTs

up and coming show,"

now, here I am throwing up snipes for your new album.

- Fuck, for sure?

That's your work? - No doubt.

- You've be doing all right, man.

I've been seeing my shit up like all over the place.

- Know, you think you could sign one of these?

- Yeah, no doubt, no doubt.

Yo, light this shit, man. - Please, man.

- The fuck is this?

- You know you're the realest MC out here.

- Thanks man.

Yo, call that nigga or something, man.

So, from Prolifik to Snipes, (laughs)

word, man, thanks.

- Take it easy. - All right,

I can't wait for your new album to drop.

- Thanks, neither can I dude, neither can I.

- Where did you go? - Fuck!

Fuck took you so long, man?

Fuck was you doing?

(soft serene music)

- [Sway] Yeah, yeah, let's do this Philadelphia,

it's your man, Sway, on WBST, keeping you locked and loaded.

We gonna keep it really dirty right now,

send this special request

out to the thugs hanging out at the power plant,

it's Ram Squad, "Ruff, Rugged & Raw" like we do, WBST.

How many niggas living ruff rugged and raw

How many niggas living ruff rugged and raw

How many niggas living ruff rugged and raw

- Yeah, yeah.

Triggs, I've been looking for you.

- What's up, Bugsy.

- I've been seeing that Prolifik shit everywhere I go,

been busy, huh?

- No doubt.

In fact, Prolifik and I were kicking in it today,

just tell me what a good job I've been doing.

- What's Prolifik doing hanging out with a punk like you?

- What?

We hang out all the time, we're tight, calls me Snipes.

(laughs)

I know you've been ripping down my snipes, Triggs.

- Yo, Malik.

Sorry.

I mean, Nino.

- Never interrupt me in the middle of a freestyle, you know,

it's kind of like going up to AI,

and you're slapping the ball out his hand.

- Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, Mac daddy,

you need studio time, right?

- Yeah, why?

(keys chinking)

- Hit Palace, kid.

- Oh,

yeah.

(bright upbeat music)

(car engine roars) (bright upbeat music)

- Now, I hope you have skills.

- I got skills.

- (laughs) We'll see.

(car doors slamming)

- You know, E, when I get my deal,

I'm gonna buy my grand mom a house,

I'm gonna hook up a Lexus for myself,

and I was thinking a black drink.

- Uh-uh?

- Oh, and I ain't forgetting about you, dog,

you about do for a nice whip as well now,

you know what I mean? - All right, cool.

Yo, hold on a second, this one's for my pops.

- Yo, get me in a shot real quick.

- All right, go ahead.

Bend down a little bit.

- You got it? - Yeah.

- Get another one. - All right.

- (laughs) Yeah, you crazy, man.

- All right, cool, got it. (tires screeching)

Damn, they out (laughs),

crazy, straight up. - Come on.

When are you gonna start puffing?

- When are you gonna get a job?

(faint upbeat music)

- Hold on, I gotta do this.

It's not locked.

(faint upbeat music)

- Hello?

(faint upbeat music)

(door squeaks) (faint upbeat music)

- Whoa, somebody been smoking the good shit.

(footsteps clumping)

Yo, turn the lights up,

and check if they got any sodas up in here.

- Find your own damn sodas.

- Here's the reason why the room is so stinky

and it's still lit.

- Come on, Malik, we're here to work, man, damn.

(chair creaking)

(suspenseful upbeat music)

- I wonder what kind of sampler...

(suspenseful upbeat music)

Oh, shit.

Is he dead?

(suspenseful upbeat music)

This is a joke, right?

- Shit, this ain't no fucking joke.

- [Man] Are you fucking kidding me?

(footsteps clumping)

(bell rings)

(bright upbeat music)

(footsteps clumping) (bell rings)

(bright upbeat music)

It's going down, here we ride

Take your time, make it right

Here we fly, make it five

We can reunite

Day on the way

Spin blue blades...One on one...

- Fuck!

(car engine ignites)

- What's wrong? - Shit, I don't know.

- Man, let's go.

- I think it's flooded. - Come on, let's go.

- Come on. - Shit!

- Fuck out of here.

(bright upbeat music)

(siren wailing)

- [Cartoon] You keep out of this,

he does not have to shoot you now.

- [Larry] I'm Larry Minty, our top story.

a stubborn fire in West Philadelphia

lights up the night sky.

Two vacant warehouses were destroyed by the flames,

if it wasn't for the quick work

of Philadelphia firefighters,

it could have been much, much worse.

Let's get the latest now from the scene.

(footsteps clumping)

- What's up, pops?

(paper rustling)

- You up awfully early on a Saturday,

what's the occasion?

(paper rustling)

- What's up?

- School called yesterday,

wanted to know if you were sick,

said you missed three days this week.

- Look, pops, I have business to take care of.

- Business?

You're 17 years old, Erik,

what kind of business would you need to take care of?

- You know, I've been working for the record company.

- What?

That littering they have you doing,

you've been missing school for that nonsense?

- It's not nonsense.

Look, this isn't a really good time.

- Erik, this is the perfect time.

I bought home the application.

- What application?

- You know what application?

I want you to fill it out.

I've already spoken to my supervisor,

he said he'll see you for an interview

as soon as you graduate.

- But I already have a job.

- What you do is not a job, it's called screwing around.

- Forget it, I'm not working at a post office

stooped over a desk, sorting mail all day.

- Oh, you got it all figured out.

You'd rather run around the streets

with that dope fiend buddy of yours.

- I gotta go.

- I'm going fishing this weekend at the shore,

I'll be back Monday morning,

at which time, one of two things is gonna happen,

either that application is filled out

or you can pack your shit and find another place to live.

(door clicks)

(door slams) (bright upbeat music)

- Hey kid, where's building A?

- Over there. - You sure?

- Yes. - All right.

All right, come on, come on, come on.

(footsteps clumping) (bright upbeat music)

(car engine roars) (bright upbeat music)

(Malik slurps) (bright upbeat music)

- If you have seen this show before,

you know how accurate and intensive reading with me can be

(door knocks)

Let me tell you a little about myself.

(door thuds) I was born as shaman,

this is part of African, Haitian

and Jamaican culture and spirituality.

My grandmother, a shaman herself,

recognized the mark of a shaman at my birth.

- Malik.

- [Woman] Traditionally you are trained by...

- You're smoking that reefer in the house?

- [Woman] Passed away when I was very young,

so, I was trained by another, my mentor, a shango priestess,

this is the life I was born.

(Malik inhales)

(door thuds)

- Malik Davis. (Malik coughs)

Some shit weed, man (laughs).

I came across this demo tape of yours this morning,

I thought I'd drop by.

- Are you from a record company or something?

- Or something, yeah (chuckles).

- Okay, so, you heard the demo tape,

it's dope, isn't it? - Yeah.

You wanna tell me why you were in my studio last night?

- Your studio?

- Yeah, my studio, dog,

the Hit Palace,

you were up there last night, weren't you?

(phone rings)

(Erik exhales)

(voicemail beeps)

- Yo, Malik, what's up, it's me, Erik.

Listen, something really strange is going on around here,

it's like last night never even happened,

you'd think it'd be all over the place.

Right now I'm down at the Hit Palace

and this sure as hell don't look like no crime scene.

Look, remember what I said, don't say nothing to nobody,

all right?

Check you later.

(voicemail beeps) - Whoa, whoa, whoa.

- And Malik, I want those tapes and I want them now.

- Tapes? - Malik?

You smoking them reefers in the house?

- Let's blow this fucking bitch now.

- Oh, shit, Tony,

don't shoot him, I need those tapes.

(ladder glides) (bright upbeat music)

Get the fuck out of here, go.

- What the devil's going on?

(bright upbeat music) (ladder glides)

(footsteps clumping) (bright upbeat music)

(car honks)

(Malik thuds) (tires screeching)

(car engine roars)

- Call 911.

(footsteps clumping)

- Come on, come on.

- Yo, is he dead? - Yo, come on, come on.

- Is he dead. - Come on, go, go.

(footsteps clumping)

(radio chatter)

- Oh, shit!

(woman sobs)

- Oh, Malik.

Oh, Malik.

- What happened?

- Hit and run, some kid got killed.

- Oh, no, Malik.

Malik, oh, no, oh no, Malik!

(train engine roars)

(Erik sobs)

- This one's for my pops.

Get me in a shot with it, all right.

(bright upbeat music)

- Hey, bend down a little bit.

A little bit more.

- You got it? - Yeah.

- Take another one. - All right.

(Erik laughs)

Hey, you crazy, man.

(tires screeching)

- Damn, they out (laughs).

(faint hip hop music)

(zipper purrs) (faint hip hop music)

I ain't shitting you

You and your crew will get done

Cut up in chunks right now but that hits like love

Coz not everybody can bring the war like a pun

I mean to brag, now bring it back

I usually

But I'ma keep it

For them niggas in the back screw

the slick talk end up a boardwalk of the fool

Uh-uh, it ain't goin' down like this

The you the income, they do the N with the L shape

Uh-uh, it ain't goin' down like this

Don't you ever forget

Uh-uh, it ain't goin' down like this

Come on

(door bell rings)

(footsteps clumping) (floor creaks)

- Yes.

- [Erik] Hey, Cheryl, it's me, Erik.

- Erik?

- What are you doing here?

- I need to talk to you, could I,

can you please open the door?

- [Cheryl] What's going on Erik?

- Cheryl, Cheryl so,

it's important, can you please just open the door?

(door buzzing)

Hit and run my ass.

I'm telling you Cheryl, it was no accident.

Whoever killed those people in the studio last night

know that we saw those bodies

and now they're covering their tracks.

They got Malik and now they're coming for me.

- This doesn't make any sense, Erik.

I think I would've heard something

if there was a double homicide at the studio last night.

- Cheryl, I know what I saw.

- All right, I believe you, calm down.

- No, you don't believe me, I'm going to the police.

- And tell them what?

That some bodies disappeared?

That your friend got hit by a car, huh?

And that someone's after you?

Erik, do you have any idea who is after you?

- This dude right here, can you zoom in on him?

- Okay.

(computer beeps)

- What's the matter?

- Nothing.

- Well, can you blow him up, zoom in.

- All right.

(computer beeps)

- Oh, man,

now, he looks like a killer.

(bright upbeat music)

Cheryl, where are you going?

(footsteps clumping) (bright upbeat music)

What's going on?

(bright upbeat music) (car engine roars)

(car door slams) (bright upbeat music)

(footsteps clumping) (bright upbeat music)

(door bell rings) (bright upbeat music)

- What's that? - It's a 38.

- No kidding, what's it for?

- Just let me do all the talking, okay?

(door bangs)

- Baby, who's at the door? - I dunno, who the hell is it?

(bright upbeat music)

(door bangs) (bright upbeat music)

- Can I help you?

(bright upbeat music)

Where do you think you're going?

(footsteps clumping) (bright upbeat music)

- Well, who is it, Lucinda?

(bright upbeat music) (footsteps clumping)

Come on, girl, shit!

Cheryl, what the fuck you doing here?

Who the fuck is he?

- Look at this.

- Oh, bitch, you better turn your ass back around

and march out that door.

- I wanna know what happened at the Hit Palace last night.

- Look, I don't know what the fuck you talking about.

Lucinda, get your ass in here woman.

Hey baby, uncuff me.

- I told you, Midas, I ain't doing no group shit.

- Oh, that's it, that's it, bitch,

get in the fucking bathroom, get in the fucking bathroom.

- Hey, hey, come on. - Get in.

- Cheryl, what the fuck, come on,

that's not cool, Cheryl.

Dude.

- [Lucinda] Midas, they'll force you.

(footsteps clumping)

- (stutters) Who you calling?

Cheryl, who you calling? - Shut up!

(phone ringing)

- Cheryl, come on now. - 911?

Yeah, I got an emergency over here,

my boyfriend, he's on them drugs again

and he's acting be really crazy.

- Cheryl. - Y'all,

you better send somebody quick,

he's tearing up the place.

- Girl, come on. - My address?

Hold on. - Okay, okay.

God damning, hang up the phone.

(phone clicks)

Fuck!

- I'm listening.

- Somebody kidnapped Prolifik.

- What?

- You heard me,

I mean, somebody kidnapped that little talented nigga, why?

I have no idea.

I ain't feeling this, man.

Last night was a closed session

with strict orders from Starr,

he didn't want no posse allowed

He even posted one of his boys in the studio

just to make sure.

About midnight, you know, we started wrapping things up,

then outta nowhere...

- Motherfuckers.

All right motherfuckers get your shit up, get it up!

What you looking at?

What the fuck are you looking at?

- Now, I tried to stop it but I got jacked from behind.

Then he takes every fucking tape,

the whole entire Prolifik album project,

and he even grabbed the one off of the deck.

Now, Starr's guy tries to be a hero

and that's when some real wild West shit plays out.

The fuck!

No, no, stop.

(gun bangs) (bright upbeat music)

- Get your ass up, come on.

Walk gangsta.

- I was this close from grabbing my nine

and capped all them niggas,

but you know, I didn't wanna endanger Prolifik.

And I called Starr, you know, I woke his ass up

and let him know what happened.

He was like, look, don't call the cops, I'm on my way.

- So, then what happened?

- It's not locked.

- So, I go to the men's room to wash up,

well, you know, I had to wash the blood outta my Versace.

You know, about 20 minutes later,

Starr shows up with some more of his boys,

they start dragging bodies out and scrubbing down the wall

and patching up holes, the whole bit,

and Starr tells me, if I say a word to anybody,

I'm gonna be the next body dumped in the river.

- You say a word about this to anybody,

you're in that fucking river, you got that?

You fucked up, get that bullet outta the wall,

get these bodies outta here, clean that shit up.

- Why cover it up like that?

- Are you kidding?

They'll didn't do anything to keep Johnnie Marandino

from finding out.

- Who's Johnnie Marandino?

- [Midas] The devil incarnate.

- What the hell does Johnnie Marandino

gotta do with all this?

- They're business partners.

I mean, he's practically Starr's fucking uncle.

Last year when Starr was trying to float Ill Wax,

he heard through some friends

that Marandino was looking for a way to clean up some cash,

so, Bobby made his old uncle Johnnie a little proposition.

- Rap music, huh?

- [Johnnie] Rap music? - Yeah, rap.

- [Johnnie] You know anything about rap music?

- The fuck is he gonna know about rap music?

It's like, it's urban, it's ghetto,

it's like, it's where the money's at, man,

I'm telling you there's so much money.

- Yeah and he's gone through a ton of it,

close to a million dollars.

I mean, he was banking on this Prolifik album

to set shit straight.

- [Lucinda] Midas, get me the fuck out of here.

- Shut the fuck up, bitch!

- I guess you could see why

Starr don't want the cops involved.

I mean, he's gotta find Prolifik and them tapes

before Marandino finds out that his investment was jacked

by a couple of street punks.

- So, does Starr have any idea who it was that

kidnapped Prolifik?

- Yeah, man, some dude named Malik, something.

- What?

- Man, this stupid motherfucker left his bag behind.

- What's that bag? - Huh?

Had a tape with his name and his address

printed right on it.

- That's it?

- Well, isn't that enough?

Yeah, it's everything you wanna know.

Would you wanna uncuff me, please?

- Let's go, Erik.

- Cheryl, why you gotta be a punk?

Cheryl, that's not cool, man, what are you doing?

Hey, come on, brother, help me.

Come on, help me out, man.

Cheryl!

Fuck you.

(bright upbeat music)

- We gotta go to the cops, Cheryl.

- I don't know, Erik,

I mean, we should think this thing through.

- What's there to think through?

- Well, first of all, you still have no proof of anything.

- [Erik] What about Midas?

- Oh, Midas isn't going to repeat that story to no cops.

(phone rings)

- Who's that? (phone rings)

- Oh, it's Starr.

- What's he want?

- [Cheryl] I don't know, it's strange timing though.

- Maybe Midas got loose.

- Maybe,

we still have to finding a place to stay tonight.

(bright upbeat music)

(footsteps clumping)

Hi, I would like a room for the night, please.

- Okay, I'ma need a credit card or something.

- I'm gonna go use the phone.

- Okay.

(coins glide)

(buttons chiming)

(phone ringing)

(phone ringing)

- [Voicemail] Yo, what's up, you've reach the Triggs,

we're not here right now, leave us a message.

(beep)

- Pops, it's me.

I'm in some sort of...

(phone clatters)

(door lock clicks)

(Erik sighs)

Cheryl,

what are you thinking?

- Erik, there's some people I have to go see.

- Who?

- I can't tell you,

and I have to go alone.

They don't know you, Erik, and they don't like strangers.

- Cheryl, listen,

stay here.

(Erik sighs)

- Do you trust me?

- What do you think?

- Then let me go,

no questions asked.

If my idea doesn't work, I'll come back and I promise

that we'll go to the cops first thing tomorrow morning.

Okay?

(Cheryl pecks)

I'll see you in a couple of hours.

- Be safe.

- Yeah.

(Erik sighs)

(door slams)

- She'll be back. (phone rings)

- Clone Motel.

Hello?

(footsteps clumping)

(upbeat suspenseful music)

(door clicks)

(upbeat suspenseful music)

- Yo, wrong room, you're in the wrong room.

(Erik grunts)

(Erik groans) (furniture clatters)

(bright upbeat music)

(Erik grunts) (bright upbeat music)

(footsteps clumping)

(Bobby whistles)

(tape tapping)

- Hmm.

Nice.

Listen closely, fucko,

we're gonna have a little Q&A session here, all right?

Where are my tapes?

- I don't have your tapes.

Yo, you're talking to the wrong guy.

Look, I think I saw the guys who did it,

I had a digital camera with me.

Inside are the pictures of the guys

you really should be looking for.

- Did you find a camera?

- Nah, just his beeper.

- Yeah.

(fist thuds) (Erik groans)

Now, let's try this again, where are my tapes?

- I don't have your tapes,

me and Malik weren't the kidnappers, you have to believe me.

All we wanted was some free studio time.

- Studio time? (men laughing)

I don't believe you, cut him.

- No, no, wait, wait, wait, wait, stop, stop.

- Oh, whoa, wait, you got something to say now?

- I talked to Midas,

told me all about you and Johnnie Marandino.

- What?

- Yeah, Marandino finds out, you're dead, right?

That's why you're trying to cover it up like this?

If he cuts me, my boy's gonna tell Johnnie Marandino

and you gonna get fucked up.

- Get Midas on the phone, now.

You think you can threaten me?

(phone rings)

- [Lucinda] Get me the fuck outta here.

- Shut the fuck up, woman.

(phone rings)

- He ain't home.

- Oh, that sucks.

You know, I've seen this exact scene in a movie

like a hundred times, right?

There's always some poor bastard's being leaned on,

that would be you,

and he's always trying to turn the tables

on the guy who's doing the leaning, that would be me.

So, he comes up with some bluff,

some bullshit story in hopes of saving his own ass,

that's what's happening here, right, kid?

It's a bluff.

Yeah, I thought so. (fingers snap)

- What (stutters)

get off me.

- You know, I love movies, Triggs,

I mean, it's like my favorite thing in the world.

I'm like a, I'm a film buff, I'm a fanatic.

You can learn all sorts of fucked up wrong things

by watching a movie,

remember that one? (Erik screams)

(Bobby laughs) (Erik screams)

- (screams) Now, I really enjoyed your little home movie,

the one over there on the fucking table.

- What are you talking about?

- What am I fucking talking about?

I'm talking about that tape

you sick fuck sent to my office a little while ago,

that's what I'm talking about.

I mean, you can't buy publicity like that, you know.

I mean, we're thinking like 2 million extra in sales,

this record's gonna be fucking huge,

so, that's why I need those goddamn tapes.

I'm asking you one more fucking time, where are they?

- I told you, I swear,

I swear on my mom's grave, I swear.

(Erik screams)

(Erik crying)

- Clean his ass up.

Shut up, you think that was bad, that was nothing.

Now, I know you and that genius, Malik,

didn't pull this off by yourselves,

there was a third person and I'm betting

he was the one calling the shots.

So, unless you give me a name in three seconds,

I swear to Christ, you're gonna be pissing into a bag

for the rest of your fucking life.

One, two... - All right, I'll tell you.

- Give me a goddamn name!

- Nino.

(bright upbeat music)

(Erik sniffles)

Nino. - Nino, who?

- Nino Brown.

- Nino Brown, who the fuck is Nino Brown?

- He's the guy who put this whole thing together,

he's got the tapes.

- Where's he at?

- I don't know. - Wrong answer.

- I dunno where he is right now.

We always meet in different locations, look,

he's due to call me the next few hours.

You got my beeper, you gotta believe me, he's gonna call.

- Kid,

I'm telling right now, if you're bullshitting me,

I swear to Christ, I will kill you,

and then just for the fucking fun of it,

you know your old man,

I'm gonna chop him up into little, itty, bitty pieces

and I'm gonna feed him to my fucking dog.

Tie this bitch up.

- Don't touch me.

Don't touch me, get off of me.

(Erik panting)

(chair glides)

Oh, fuck.

Fucking Starr.

- Ah, Nino Brown, Nino Brown,

I fucking know that name, Nino Brown.

- Yo, Bobby man, what you want us to do?

- I'm thinking.

Okay, Tony, I want you to call your peeps at Crayford,

all right, I want you to see if you can get any information

on this criminal mastermind, Nino fucking Brown.

Donnie, I want you to grab a phone book,

you go online if you have to,

I want some fucking 411 on this cat, got me?

(table clatters)

(faint upbeat music)

(knife clatters)

(bright upbeat music)

- Okay.

Yo, Bobby man, we got a problem.

(bright upbeat music)

He says the only Nino Brown he ever heard of

was this cat in a movie and

he doubts that's the same cat you looking for.

- (chuckles) Go get that kid,

now!

(bright upbeat music)

(footsteps clumping) (bright upbeat music)

- Oh, mother shit!

(bright upbeat music)

(car engine roars) (bright upbeat music)

(train engine roars) (bright upbeat music)

(Erik shivers)

(dogs barking)

(bright upbeat music)

- [Cheryl] This is Cheryl, I'm tied up right now,

but I'll call you right back as soon as I can,

okay, bye bye.

- Look who it is, Mr. Snipes.

Goddamn, Triggs, you're a mess.

Looks like someone tried to chew your face off.

- Yo, who that?

- Just some punk who thinks he's the shit.

- Yo, he looks fucked up.

- Ain't that right Mr. Snipes?

(Erik thuds) - Yo, dog.

Oh, he's twisted, come on.

Come on. - Come on, get up, get up.

(faint upbeat music)

(Erik sniffles)

(faint upbeat music)

Snipes!

Hey, you're alive.

- Where am I?

- You don't remember?

You're in my crib,

you crashed out about 10 hours ago,

Trix wanted to take you to the hospital but you wouldn't go.

- How's the nose?

- It hurts.

- Looks nasty, I used super glue to close it up.

I'm saying I do piercings,

that's what we use in case of an emergency.

- So, what happened, Triggs?

You stick that nose somewhere it didn't belong?

- The tape, where is it?

(tape clatters)

(static glitching)

- Starr,

I want you to meet somebody,

Clarence Ubanks,

AKA Prolifik.

This punk used to be one of us,

said if he made it in the rap game,

he'd take us out the projects on some bling shit.

He lied, left us the fuck behind,

don't act like you don't remember who the fuck we are,

but the bitch won't be able to forget us now.

So, I'm afraid he gotta go. - Let's do it.

- What the...! (gun bangs)

- Shit, yo, that's fucked up.

- The fuck, say something first.

See this, it's the master reel

from Prolifik's long awaited debut album.

You can't walk 10 steps in the city

without seeing one of those fucking posters.

Everybody's waiting on this record,

and there no back ups.

This here reel is one of a kind.

It's hard to, you know,

put a price for things like this, but

guaranteed platinum tracks, they don't come cheap,

so, we figured half a mill is fair.

This is a one time exclusive offer from us to you.

We'll call you later with the details

when and where to make the transaction

so you just gather up the cake and sit tight.

No cops, we smell fucking Jake

and this shit goes up in flames.

- Bobby Starr thinks you're part of this?

Look, I wouldn't normally suggest this, Triggs,

but maybe you ought to go talk to the cops.

- Cops can't do nothing for me.

I can't prove Starr's done a fucking thing.

Shit.

He's got guys watching my house,

he said he's gonna chop my pops up into little pieces

and feed him to his dog. - Goddamn!

- And he means it.

I gotta get his tapes back to him.

- How the hell are you gonna do that?

(tape rewinding)

(bright upbeat music)

(tape rewinding)

- I've seen this ink before.

Looks like a white guy.

This dude right here, can you zoom in on him?

- Okay, Erik.

- You got the "MindGames" single?

Kingsbridge crew,

fucking killed him.

- Triggs, what are you thinking?

(footsteps clumping)

Look out

Yo, I told you not to shoot that thing in here.

- My bad.

(faint upbeat music)

- Triggs, I'm starting to think you might have bad luck.

Okay, maybe you should go find your pops before Starr does

and get the fuck away from here.

- I'm gonna go find that dude with the tattoo.

- Triggs, you're not thinking of going over to Kingsbridge,

are you?

You're crazy.

- I need a favor.

(suspenseful upbeat music)

- Okay, Triggs,

did some checking and I found out a few things

about this big white killer of yours,

you were right, he's from Kingsbridge.

Everybody knows the guy,

he stands out like a sore thumb over there,

he's part of the crew, hangs out over on Ridge Avenue.

You want some advice?

Do not go looking for this guy, Triggs,

he's bad news, man, a complete psycho.

(bright upbeat music)

- [Sway] WBST, this is Sway,

coming up at the top of the hour,

we got some brand new Lela James,

Voice of Choice into shock waves through your radio,

and speaking of big, we're still trying to get our hands

on some tracks from that new Prolifik album,

"Revenge of the Intellect,"

everybody's waiting for that one,

we'll be sure to keep you posted.

Anyway, we're headed for a really long day,

so, let's buckle up and do this thing right,

send it off with Street Nine on WBST.

(bright upbeat music)

Oh oh oh

Oh oh oh

Oh oh oh

Oh oh oh

Oh oh oh

Oh oh oh

Oh oh oh

Oh oh oh

Oh, where my tribe at, oh, where my tribe at

Oh, where my tribe at, oh, where my tribe at

Oh, where my tribe at, oh, where my tribe at

Oh, where my tribe at

(car engine roars) (footsteps clumping)

- They think they're tough. - Well, let's show them.

(men grunting) (karate kicks thud)

(lighter ignites)

(men grunting) (karate kicks thud)

- [Captain] Oh, hey,

I'm the captain, what do you want?

- [Man] Oh, I've come a long way, just to see you.

(men grunting) (karate kicks thud)

(soft serene music)

(dispenser glides)

(footsteps clumping)

(door creaks) (footsteps clumping)

(phone ringing)

- Fuck!

(phone ringing)

What?

I'm on my way, I had to stop.

What are you doing?

You call that motherfucker, Starr, yet?

For real?

Where's he at?

Oh, why is he talking to her, fuck that bitch.

Yeah, you're damn right we gotta figure something out,

but not at her house, I don't want her all up in this.

Right, let's hook up at the Love Lounge.

All right,

peace.

Oh, fuck.

(tin clatters) (sole squishing)

(soft serene music)

(gun thuds) - Fuck, oh.

(bright upbeat music) (men groaning)

(cover thuds) (ceramic shutters)

Can't get fresher than this

(sings in foreign language)

(bag rustles) (zipper purrs)

(paper rustling) (soft serene music)

All right, let's hook up at the Love Lounge.

(car engine roars)

(car door slams)

(car engine roars)

(bright upbeat music)

Ah

This one's for all those

Hey, if you got a mother, sisters

You got a father, your grandparents, your kids

Some of them died, feel them and move on

They say this life is only what you make it so

If they hand it down I'm only gonna take it in the ghetto

Promises is only made to break and never understood

Niggas only love me when I'm naked so

Take a look into this life I live and learn

Never judge a book by the cover, gotta turn the page

14 turn the age

I was already learning ways to earn this change

Playing on my bag for a couple of stacks

Was the way for me, mama, please pray for me

It was daily, she ain't even know where I stay

The making through my day was the only way

I was the only one out of my four siblings

That gave her problems

And make her life more different now

Everything around me did a 360

Ride and feel good just to sleep in now

'Cause sometimes, you gotta right the wrong

When the nights get long and the days are gone

- Floyd, man, why you look so frail?

- Chill. - Shit is ill right now.

- I know, man, Floyd, relax.

Relax, cuz, all right?

- [Floyd] Yeah, I'm chilling, but I'm saying,

shit ain't going right and I ain't gonna relax.

- [JD] Why ain't going right, we got everything?

- [Floyd] Trying to pay you money back,

but dude said he ain't taking the money.

- Look, he gonna pay, chill.

- I'm fucking going worry.

Man, I told you a half a mil was too much to be asking.

Yo, maybe if you drop that shit down

like a quarter of a mil.

- You don't huggle with no ransom, you idiot,

this ain't no auction.

- Yo, but the man says he ain't paying.

- He gonna pay, he just stalling, yo, damn.

- Oh, you fucking know the whole, I guess you know.

- Where Ceaser at, man? - You know, JD knows

what the fuck is going on.

- You know what JD know? - Know what the fuck going on.

- JD know Bobby Starrs a reject gangster.

- All right, maybe Starr's a reject gangster.

- Relax, chill, all right,

Look at shawty up there, she got the fatty fatty banger ass.

- [Floyd] Right, right.

- Go tip or something, dog.

- [Floyd] No, I'm just, just fucking calling.

Shit ain't going right, I ain't gonna relax.

- He ain't picking up the phone.

- [Floyd] You using the words, don't worry,

and I'm saying, nigga I'm a worry

about the shit, you know what I mean?

I mean. - Stop bitching, man,

now you bitching, man. - It's just stressful man.

Look, man, I'm gonna wait yet.

- Shit is stressful, man, this shit, all right?

- Stop smoking so much fucking weed.

- [Floyd] Man, it ain't that, man, it ain't.

Bad habits will hold you back

Pick up a book instead of holding crack

(phone rings)

Oh, boy, thank God, yo.

- What up?

- JD?

- Who this?

- I got your tapes.

- What you mean you got, who the fuck is this?

- I said I got your tapes and I'm onto you assholes,

you, Caesar and Floyd, you going down.

- Yo, what the fuck you mean you got tapes, who is this?

- Hello, hello?

Some dudes talking about, he got the tapes.

-Hey, they got the fucking riffs

What do you mean he got the tapes?

(bright upbeat music) (footsteps clumping)

(door slams)

(car engine roars)

(tires screeching) (car engine roars)

(bright upbeat music)

(car engine roars) (bright upbeat music)

- [Sway] All right, Philadelphia, it's your boy Sway,

man, it's been a long day,

coming to the end of a double shift, woo,

but let's do the damn thing.

This next one is a BFT up and comer.

(car engine roars) (bright upbeat music)

(doors slamming) (bright upbeat music)

(door creaks) (door slamming)

(dog barks)

(footsteps clumping)

- Yo, are the tapes still there?

- Yeah, the tapes are still there.

Look, man, lower your voice, damn.

Don't tell nobody about that phone call either, all right,

shit is tense enough around here as it is.

- Who you think it was that called us?

- I don't know man, but he knew all our names,

me, you and Caesar.

- My name?

No shit, if Bobby Starr know who you are,

he gonna kill us all.

- Shut the fuck up, Floyd, we got the tapes, all right,

homes, we hold the tapes, we hold the cards.

(door creaks)

(soft suspenseful music)

(door slams) (footsteps clumping)

(indistinct chatter)

What, yeah.

Ceaser, where you been, dog?

What happened to your head?

- I got jumped.

- [JD] By who?

- I don't know, he robbed me.

- Oh, he robbed you, huh?

Who the hell would wanna rob your fat ass?

Yo, back up, back up. - Chill, damn, big man.

- All I'm saying is that the shit ain't made no sense

and neither does that phone call, man,

yo, you're not feeling me, dog,

somebody is fucking after us. - What phone call?

What the fuck is he talking about?

- [JD] Man, you're just being paranoid and shit, Floyd,

calm your ass down, man.

(indistinct chatter) (soft suspenseful music)

(gun clatters) (soft suspenseful music)

(zipper purrs) (bag rustles)

(footsteps clumping) (soft suspenseful music)

- Why you got her ass locked upstairs,

what kind of stupid shit is that?

- [JD] Yo, so she don't go to Starr and talk

and she ain't going nowhere till we have it, this bitch.

- No shit, why don't we just smoke the bitch?

- [Floyd] Look, hold on, man,

ain't nobody laying a finger on Cheryl,

she ain't got nothing to do with this.

- She got everything to do with this, man.

She was down from the door, right,

then she wanna come in here screaming and yelling and,

hell no.

- Bitch is just jealous

'cause she ain't getting a cut of the ransom.

- Mm-hmm, Floyd, dog, she know everything, she gotta go.

- Once we get our loot,

we gonna have to silence her permanently.

- I mean, come on, Jay, I mean, I know this nigga

but come on, man, how long we known this girl?

What, you gonna take her life?

No, no, Jay, what, you gonna take her life, I'm saying.

- Floyd, it ain't nothing personal,

strictly business.

- Yeah, man, strictly business.

(glasses chinking)

- No Kingsbridge nigga.

put that fucking gun away.

- Kingsbridge nigga.

- [Ceaser] Put your gun down, Floyd.

(soft suspenseful music)

(floor creaks) (epic suspenseful music)

(bright upbeat music)

(footsteps clumping)

(urine burbles) (man groans)

(toilet flushing)

- [Man] Yo, Clarence?

- Yo.

(footsteps clumping)

(soft suspenseful music)

(Cheryl grunts) (soft suspenseful music)

(bright upbeat music) (footsteps clumping)

- Yo, Starr should have called by now, man,

that's what I'm saying.

He fronting like he don't want these tapes

when you know he do.

(footsteps clumping) (bright upbeat music)

- Fuck, yo. - Where's the gun?

- Yeah, right there.

- What do we do with this guy?

- He's coming with us. - Let's go.

- What the fuck?

(bright upbeat music)

- Let's go, come on, come on.

- What, y'all gonna kidnap me now?

- Get moving. - Damn.

- Open the door, Cheryl,

get in the middle. - All right, yo,

you ain't gotta poke, you ain't gotta fucking poke,

you ain't gotta poke. - Get the fuck in.

- Fuck!

Come on, man.

(car engine roars)

- Cheryl, where are we going?

Come on, y'all, what's going on,

y'all not gonna kill me, are you?

'Cause yo, I swear to God, that was JD and Ceaser,

they was the ones that was gonna kill you, yo,

but I wasn't gonna let 'em, I was like.

- Shut your mouth, Floyd!

- Don't fucking talk, man.

- He's annoying but harmless.

Erik, what happened to your nose?

- Present from Bobby Starr.

- Yo, listen, y'all can let me off

right at this block right here,

I swear to God, I swear to God, I'm cool.

Because kidnap ransom shit show,

yo, I ain't cut out for this.

(tires screeching)

- Shut the fuck up, Floyd.

- I saw Prolifik back at the hideout.

I saw a tape of him being killed,

but he was alive, what's up with that?

- Yo, yo, it's Clarence that came up with the whole plan,

all right, kidnap himself, fake his own death

and bail out on a whole fucked up situation.

He was gonna get Bobby Starr for half a mil and disappear.

-Not without these,

he ain't..

- Yo, kid, I'm telling you, you better take them tapes back,

you don't wanna get mixed up in all this.

- I'm already mixed up in it,

these tapes are my fucking way out.

I don't get it,

this record was gonna make Prolifik a superstar,

why would he pull something like this?

Why would he pull something like this?

(door creaks) (door slams)

Cheryl, I need some answers.

- You sure you wanna the truth about your hero?

- He ain't no hero to me, not anymore.

- "Mindgames," "Mindgames"

what an appropriate title for his album.

His whole bullshit career was one big fucking mind game.

- What are you talking about?

(twigs snapping)

- Yo, listen, if y'all got shit to discuss,

I could be on my way.

- (sighs) This is very complicated.

I grew up in the Cambridge project, it's all right, Erik,

(bright upbeat music)

right next door to Clarence.

(bright upbeat music)

There was this thing between us,

but my family moved out when I was 15

and he and I, we lost touch,

and about a year ago, fate just started messing with me.

(bright upbeat music)

I couldn't believe it was him.

We started catching up and I wanted so much to impress him.

I'm in the record business, okay?

Told him I just need to make my first big discovery

and then I'd be on my way.

Clarence laughed, said he was managing this MC,

his cousin, Damon, who was going by the name of Prolifik

and that he had had a demo that was the bomb.

He played it for me that night in his car.

The tracks were incredible.

This kid just had this flow, this style,

that was just totally unique.

The next day I brought the tape to Bobby Starr,

well, he flipped out.

- This kid's fucking amazing, okay.

- He tells me to set up the meeting as soon as possible

to do the deal and if it goes well,

I'll get points on the project,

a bonus, a promotion, everything.

- Oh, fuck, yo! - Damon!

- [Cheryl] Well, Damon never made it to that meeting.

- Oh, shit, Damon. - He's kill the night before.

Clarence called me at home sounding all broken up.

Hello, hey Clarence,

and I was about to call Bobby Starr with the bad news

when he hit me with this crazy idea.

You see, Starr had never seen

so much as a photograph of Damon,

so, he had no idea what Prolifik looked like.

- I know all his rhymes, I know all his rhymes,

I was there in the studio when he did,

I know the whole album, I can do this.

- Clarence said he could play the part,

he could be Prolifik.

He couldn't rhyme or write lyrics as well as Damon but

he could imitate his style.

I thought this is insane,

I mean, how could we possibly get away with it?

But of course, Clarence had another way of looking at it,

how could we turn our backs on a six figure deal?

He gave me a long speech about family

and how he was gonna take care of Damon's sick mother,

Clarence could always turn on the charm when he had to.

- And now I even get to take care of you still.

- Oh, yeah? - Sure.

(bright upbeat music)

- So, I agreed to the plan.

He signed the deal, we split the advance money,

Bobby Starr put out the EP

and the "Mindgames" single blew up,

and just like that, Clarence was a rap star.

In no time at all, he was believing his own hype,

as far as he was concerned, he was a star.

Of course, Clarence pissed away

his half of the advance money,

the studio sessions kept dragging on

and everyone was wondering, you know,

what was wrong with Prolifik?

How come he couldn't get it done?

- Man, that's it, man, fuck you man, that is it, man.

- So, he and his boys came up with this kidnap plot,

ransom the master reels back to Starr for half a million

and fake his own death.

He could disappear with the loot

and get Bobby Starr off his back.

They never told me, I would've never allowed it to happen.

Once I found out about Johnnie Marandino,

I knew this whole ransom scheme was headed for disaster.

They're gonna get themselves killed

and my involvement in this whole thing is gonna come out.

(bright upbeat music) (car engine roars)

(doors slam) (bright upbeat music)

- Don't kidnap me.

- What the fuck is this?

- I didn't put this shit on. - Fuck is it remote at, man?

- Yo, the fuck you doing, hid the remote too?

- Shouldn't we check on Cheryl?

- She'll be all right, fucking leave her up there.

- You think Starr gonna call soon?

- He should be calling any minute.

It's about that time any fucking way.

(phone rings)

- All right.

- Told you.

- Yo, who this?

- Yo, yo, JD, it's me, Floyd.

- Floyd, where the fuck you at?

- Yo, listen to me, dog,

Cheryl and some kid, they snatched the tapes, all right,

and ain't no prank this time,

they grabbed them out the house about an hour ago

and they got my ass hostage.

- What?

What the, what?

- [Floyd] Yo, yo, just go check, just go check,

they took them, JD.

- What the fuck is Floyd talking about?

- He talking about the reels ain't here.

- The fuck he mean the tapes ain't here.

- Yo, what the fuck are you talking about, Floyd, man?

- Go down there and see if the tapes down there, man.

- You listen to me, yo, they had me tied up y'all

but you know me, dog, I busted loose.

- [JD] Busted loose?

- Yo, yo, I think I hear them coming,

hold up, hold up, hold up.

- Floyd.

Floyd, what is you talking about, man,

what's going on? - They're not in there.

- What?

- The fuck you mean they ain't there?

- Not fucking there.

- Man, come on, I don't think it's gonna work.

- Oh, it's gonna work 'cause you're gonna convince them.

- Walk your ass back down them steps and check again, man.

- Yo, just listen to me, dog. - Hurry the fuck up,

what the fuck is you talking about?

Get the fuck out of here. - Jay, are you there, Jay,

listen to me, dog, listen to me.

Cheryl, some kid, they cut their own deal with Bobby Starr,

they're meeting three hours from now

to sell the shit back to him.

- Where, where?

- It's over at the old power plant

on the corner of Delaware and Belgrave.

- Yo man, this better be no joke.

- Oh, shit, yo yo, I gotta go, peace.

- Yeah.

- They're still not fucking there.

Yo, we got business to handle, we got business to handle.

- Fuck man. - This nigga telling...

(all speaking)

- Was that your,

y'all like that? - That wasn't bad.

You think they'll show up?

- Oh, hell, yeah.

- All right.

I just hope this works.

Floyd, give me a mic check right now.

It's all right. - Mic check, one,

mic check two,

pimp daddy Floyd and his Kingsbridge crew.

- All right, that's enough, Floyd.

(equipment clatters)

(phone beeping)

(phone rings)

(glass clatters) (phone rings)

- What?

- Hey Bobby, you ready to do this?

- Who's this?

- It's the kid with the bloody nose.

- Whoa, where are you little fucker.

- Oh, Bobby, I got your precious tapes.

- What?

- I wanna give you back the masters to the Prolifik album.

- Oh, okay, now we're thinking, that's smart.

- For the super discount price of $200,000.

- What, you little fucking shit.

- We'll make the transaction three hours from now,

there's an old power plant on a corner Delaware and Belgrave

meet me there at 7:00 AM, sharp.

- Power plant Delaware and Belgrave in three hours.

Okay, got it.

Kid, you better fucking pray I never find your old man.

- Oh, aren't you forgetting about Johnnie Marandino?

He's not gonna be too happy

if I tell him that Prolifik's dead.

- Well, kid, I told you before, right, don't threaten me,

I ain't afraid of Marandino,

that Guinea cock sucker has got nothing to do with this,

Bobby Starr don't answer no one,

this matter's between you and me.

- But what about the way

you've been spending Marandino's dough?

Like the $20,000 you dropped

taking those two strippers to Hawaii,

or what about that new Mercedes

you just bought on the company dime?

- Oh, did Midas tell you that because he's full of shit.

- But I gotta say you topped yourself with that little

19 year old girl daughter of Johnnie Marandino,

you know, the one he wanted you to demo as a singer,

must have been hard for her to get more singing done

with your dick in her mouth the whole time.

- Well, motherfucker, you ever repeat that, I swear.

- Meet me at seven, don't be late.

- That was nice, Erik. - That was good.

Hey kid, that was good. - Real nice.

- Hello?

Hello.

Fuck, just a little fucking kid.

Where's my gun, you got my gun?

- [Man] There you go, did you do hit the number?

- Yeah.

(indistinct chatter) (chips chinking)

- Take three.

(paper rustling)

- Jesus Christ!

(paper rustling)

- [Bobby] I ain't afraid of Marandino,

that Guinea cock suckers got nothing to do with this,

all right, Bobby Starr don't answer to no one.

(bright upbeat music)

- Nothing yet.

- [Cheryl] Keep an eye out, Erik,

I just saw Starr's car go by.

- Hold on.

He's here.

(bright upbeat music)

When we enter up on the dance everybody bang

Bitches shaking their glass fast, everybody bang

Niggas getting their money all when you put it bang

Baby how you get paid, bang, bang, bang

- Where the fuck are they?

(bright upbeat music) (car engine roars)

Smell like I had a few beers

Every time we

- Here comes to Kingsbridge crew.

(bright upbeat music)

- Nobody shoots til I see these tape, you got it, huh?

- Hand over the fucking money.

- Where the fuck's Triggs?

- Hey dude, who the fuck's Triggs?

- I don't know no fucking Triggs.

- Look, man, just give us the goddamn bag

with the money in it,

you get your tapes and we get the fuck outta here.

- Tony, grab the money.

- Yo Bobby, you might wanna check over there first.

- What the fuck?

(bright upbeat music)

(Erik laughs)

- They see him.

- What's he saying?

- Whoa, whoa, whoa,

it looks like my tapes are right over here

you little pieces of shit (laughs).

- What the fuck?

- How the fuck did they get over there?

- Donnie, grab those fucking tapes.

Grab those fucking tapes now!

(bright upbeat music)

Go, move it, come on, hurry up.

Niggas scream my M16's got

- Yo, big man, you better freeze your ass right there.

- That's a bad idea, Starr.

- Watch my back. - I got your back,

just pick up the fucking tapes, hurry up.

- I'm warning you, Bobby. - Fuck you,

pick up those fucking tapes.

- Don't touch them fucking tapes.

- Fuck you. - Come on,

you fat piece of shit, pick up the fucking tapes.

- Back the fuck up! - Put down the fucking tapes.

- Shut the fuck up, pick them up, now.

- Starr, I'm not fucking telling you again.

(bright upbeat music)

(gun bangs) - Shit!

- Fuck!

- You see that?

I told you this aint no game. - Erik?

Erik, are you okay?

- [Erik] Hold on. - Fuck did that come from?

- You wanna fuck with Ceaser, motherfucker?

- Donnie, you hit?

- I don't think so, there's a fucking sniper up there.

- You know, I see him, I see him, we got you covered.

- Erik, are you okay? - It's Prolifik,

he on a building shooting at Starr.

(bright upbeat music)

- There's your last chance, Starr,

give us the goddamn money.

- The last chance for you to go fuck yourself.

- Fuck you, Starr, look, I'm telling you, I'm warning you.

- Pick up the fucking tapes, now.

(bright upbeat music)

(gun bangs)

- Donnie! (tapes clattering)

- Oh, shit!

- What? (gun bangs)

(bright upbeat music)

- Erik?

Erik (sobs). - Oh, shit.

- Erik, are you okay?

(bright upbeat music) (gun bangs)

- Fuck you, punk. (gun bangs)

(man grunts)

(bright upbeat music) (gun bangs)

- Oh, shit, motherfucker.

(bright upbeat music) (gun bangs)

What the fuck, little bitch.

What, what, what.

(bright upbeat music) (gun bangs)

(gun bangs) (metal clangs)

- [Cheryl] Erik?

(gun bangs)

(bright upbeat music)

(gun bangs) (bright upbeat music)

(Ceaser groans) (gun bangs)

(bright upbeat music)

(gun bangs) (bright upbeat music)

- Fuck, Cheryl.

He's heading out, Cheryl.

Cheryl, Prolifik's heading out.

(bright upbeat music)

- Erik, Erik, you're breaking up.

(bright upbeat music)

- Tony, grab those tapes.

- What?

- Go.

(bright upbeat music)

(gun bangs) (Tony grunts)

Ah, fuck!

(gun bangs)

- Cheryl,

Cheryl, can you hear me?

Cheryl?

- Erik?

Erik?

- Cheryl?

- Oh, fuck, it's him.

Marandino just rolled up.

- Get the fuck.

(birds cawing)

Oh,

fuck!

The fuck is he doing here, shit?

Hey Dino.

I mean Mr. Marandino, what are you doing here?

- What are you doing there?

Get up.

- Yeah.

- What's with all the dead people?

- That's rather complicated, actually.

- It's rather complicated? - Yeah.

(palm slaps)

Fuck.

- Where's my investment, Bobby?

Oh, is it over there lying on the ground?

- Erik, Erik, Erik,

the phone's dead, the phone's dead.

(footsteps clumping)

- You lied to me, you pissed away my money

and now you let some fucking street punks

kill your big rap star.

- What? Who told you that?

- Oh, a little fucking birdie told me that.

- Erik, Erik?

Something ain't right.

(gun bangs) Oh, my God, oh my God.

- [Prolifik] You miss me?

(bright upbeat music) - Oh, my God.

Someone help me, oh, my God.

- Shut the fuck up and drive, bitch.

(Cheryl crying) (bright upbeat music)

(car engine roars)

- Stop, stop, stop it.

Get out.

(bright upbeat music)

Sorry.

(car engine roars) (bright upbeat music)

(tires screeching) (bright upbeat music)

- Okay, look,

Dino, it's all good.

- Oh, it's all good? - Yeah.

- Oh, terrific. - Yeah, no, it's good because

you gotta understand this rap game, you know,

and this cat Prolifik, he's worth more to us now dead

than he was alive, I mean, and now,

the record's gonna get like a great buzz

and we can hype this motherfucker.

- Yeah, you're fucking stuttering, Bobby.

You know, you let me down.

- Yeah, but Dino,

we're family, right?

- You shouldn't have fucked my sweet little Gina, Bobby.

That's not what I meant

when I asked you to teach her something about the business.

Let's go for a little ride.

- Oh yeah? - Yeah.

- Okay.

- Jump in the front there, Bob.

(bright upbeat music) (Prolifik mumbles)

- No, no, no. - Get your hands off of that.

- No, come on, please.

(bright upbeat music)

(door slams) (Cheryl sobs)

No (crying)! - Walk.

(bright upbeat music)

- Can we just please think about this?

- Fuck your ass.

- I can help you, all right?

I can talk to Marandino, all right, please.

- No need, he already think I'm dead anyway, so fuck it.

- Please, Clarence, just... - (striking) Shut up, man.

Get your motherfucking ass down them steps.

You gonna pay for selling me out.

(Cheryl groans) (Prolific mumbles)

(Prolific thuds) (gun clatters)

(car engine roars)

- Come on, come on, move, move.

(bright upbeat music)

(Prolifik groans) (bright upbeat music)

(groaning) (bright upbeat music)

(car engine roars)

(tires screeching)

(door slams)

(footsteps clumping)

(gun bangs) (Erik screams)

- Cheryl. (footsteps clumping)

Cheryl. (footsteps clumping)

- Erik.

- Cheryl, are you okay?

- I'm so sorry (sobs),

I didn't want you to get hurt.

- Don't worry, Cheryl, I'm not hurt,

everything's okay.

- It's okay.

- Listen, we gotta get you outta here.

Oh, shit, Cheryl, you're bleeding.

Fuck!

Cheryl?

Cheryl?

Cheryl?

I get money, say the bitch don't wake up.

Oh, shit.

If it ain't my number one fan, Mr. Snipes.

Can't say I'm not happy to see you, though.

I'ma need your help getting out this shit hole.

What?

What you think about shooting?

Get the fuck out of here nigga,

you not no fucking gangster.

You ain't gonna be Snipes, that's what you do.

You're worse than a motherfucking groupie.

Groupie, slide that motherfucking gun over here before I

fuck you up like I did that two timing bitch over there.

Slide it over, nigga.

- Fuck you!

(gun cocks)

Stop!

Don't, don't, stop, stop, stop, stop,

stop, stop! (gun bangs)

(gun taps)

- More now on the kidnapping and brutal murder

of a popular Philadelphia musician.

25 year old Clarence Ubanks

known in the world of hiphop music as Prolifik

was found shot to death

in a north Philadelphia basement.

Police now say they have a videotape of the killing.

The tape was delivered anonymously

and is said to show the gruesome details of Ubanks's murder

- Hey Erik, did you hear about the hero rap star?

It sounds like he got himself shot.

- [Anchor] Saying it is a key piece of evidence.

- Yeah, I heard about that.

How's that application coming along?

- [Anchor] To finding Ubank's killer.

- I'm working on it.

- [Mr. Triggs] By the end of today, Erik.

(soft serene music)

(bright upbeat music)

- What's up, Snipes?

(footsteps clumping)

- Hey Bugsy.

Hey, call me Triggs, all right?

- Okay, Triggs,

I see you made it out that situation in one piece

and I heard what happen to Bobby Starr.

I guess he ain't gonna be messing with you no more, huh?

- Guess not.

- And those masters are still missing, huh?

- Yeah, I don't think they'll ever find those.

- It's a real shame to be with a fortune,

that album will go mega platinum, everyone will buy it.

- You don't think so? - Hell, yeah,

everyone wants to hear what Prolifik had to say,

those tapes could be his legacy, man.

Out with the old and in with the new.

(paper rustling)

That's the thing about Snipes,

Triggs, they're temporary.

- Guess I never saw it like that.

- You know, Fish just quit,

you think you can give us a hand?

- Nah, man, I got something to do.

- Okay, you should be good.

- You too.

- You know you still the second best to Philly.

- Thanks man see you.

(bright upbeat music)

(water splashing)

- [Sway] WBST, this is your man, Sway,

and like all of you, Philadelphia, still in mourning,

hoping to keep the memory of our man Prolifik alive,

may he rest in peace,

but let's pour out a little liquor for Prolifik

and all our lost loved ones,

here's some new music that might help uplift your spirits.

Remember, hold your head up and keep it righteous,

it's WBST.

I done done a lot of fast shit and I got to live with it

I ain't got nothing but love no, I'm give with it

Life is strange, the fact he saw tight bug

Remember Mike, he was hands

Til he got touched by them slugs

Playing with them thugs gotta learn like a brother

It's not a good sight to see a cat catching in his mom

Profiles open, Cs before chain

Both eyes closed, we met death felt the flames

We all feel the pain

I'm seeing a lot of cats can't bear

And they catching buckets of noise across the face where

To the grave scar for life

For running his lips instead of busting his clips

He'd rather talk shit and got sprayed out

For them chips and bricks, it got laid out

Beat taught today, didn't know she was played out

Young and naive, blind to these streets that we walk

This kindness and weakness that got 'em outline to talk

It's the destiny, destiny, destiny

Better be ready for the fight of your life

Destiny, destiny, destiny

Y'all know the answer

We're leveling down

I ain't seen none of the rainy days

And when pat got shot, it killed me

Like the slugs he got hit with filled me

With nothing but stress

Eating holes through the brain

Love life but can't live another day in this game

Calling it quits, packed my bags, gotta run

Kiss my honey and rode around

And explained my story to son

Daddy wasn't a good guy when he was on these streets

Ran with thugs, sold drugs and carried around heat

I was young living fast, it was all about the cash

And who could finish first

I wasn't trying to be the last but the past caught up

And it went in for the kill

When I thought it was all good things started getting hell

We made a turn for the worst, I'm I blessed with a curse

My destiny to be young laying in the hearse

Face that and I dwelled in the sorrow

I was the type to chase that never dealt with the tomorrow

It's your destiny, destiny, destiny

You better be ready for the fight of your life

It's your destiny, destiny, destiny

No one knows the answer, we live or we die

I wish that most my peeps in jail could post bail

Wish that most of my brothers

Didn't walk through this hell

Wish on the started rising the east sets in the west

To my friends, I wish them love

To my foes wish them the best

Life's a test, I'ma pass this class with a straight 100

Leaving earth on two feet ascending to heaven straight

I see that must suffer in order for you to learn

Whether God or the devil, good or bad, we all gonna burn

I got one life to give and I'm running chasing death

Gunning, I get to heaven when I catch my last breath

Seen where all my faith went, my love, my glory

When my father opened a book

My life was written in the story

Stated you gonna go through the good times

Along with the bad

You gonna see the great times

When you're confused and you're sad

The one that turned your frown to a smile

And makes you glad

Physically man with your father's spirit, I'm your dad

It's your destiny, destiny, destiny

You better be ready for the fight of your life

Destiny, destiny, destiny

No one knows the answer, we live or we die

Your destiny, you determine what you want it to be

It's your destiny, your destiny

You determine what you want it to be

(music fades)