Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

Couple of police interrupting me, while I'm trying to get my drink on.
Dee put him back on count though.
You owe me $10.
What are you, a boy or a man?
Aren't you better off that we didn't?
You's a Hoe Ass Nigga, Man! Can't believe the twisted shit you've motherfukkin done!
-$15. -Here take $10.
Dawg, you ain't cornholed no animal for real, did you?
We filed an amended finance report that shows--
But it's you they're gonna blame, and you who's gonna do the jolt.
We're okay here.
I can see the tree on the side of them.
Easy. We're just getting started.
He was getting high. I've seen him cop.
I'm tired of your games.
I gotta go back to Auto tomorrow morning.
Yeah, I mean, we all got a lot to protect here.
And I don't know those people, and I don't know why they gave.
You want to talk about dirt? Have at it.
Sterling's, up on 29th Street? Don't you know nothing?
-Best chili dogs in the city. -No, man, not even.
so we've been ordered to begin sending bodies home.
We need some re-up, man, we gonna tap out by noon.
Shit, everybody waiting on the re-up, but I never made that run before.
-Go ahead, Poot. -You're stupid.
I'll get it. A little cream, right?
It's Like Butter Baby
he gets back from in-service training, he's gonna kiss the stripes...
Because now they know we're for real.
Iisten to those dead phones...
-106th and Park? -The joint is vicious.
Okay, slowly bring your right arm around your back.
Come on, nigger, let's walk.
All right, then. Hold that pose right there, shorty.
What she gonna do? Take out a tape and ask Avon to hold the other end?
You want me to write a letter to his mom, too?
There we go. All right.
you know, the one that dimed on Omar's bitch.
I put a battery up her ass...
second number's for muscle.
Where's Wallace? That's all I want to know.
This is Lieutenant Daniels with the Baltimore Department.
Pulling campaign finance reports for every politician...
Nigga You ain’t shining like me you ain’t built like me, you just a mop head motherfukka who’s shape like a bee Somebody need to Scratch Your Ass cuz nigga you itchin, keep bitchin, what’s up with your Moms in the Kitchen
Catch you later.
and checking up on some of the contributors.
We just cash the damn checks, count the votes, and move on.
We're on. No need for an eyeball.
Re-up from where? You niggers ain't heard?
All right, let's see what we got here.
Same shit, different file.
Dang, boy, Chink Bob's...
Boy took me for $10.
But I got the feeling Barksdale's money has legs.
All right.