Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

Hey, both of y'all, chill.

Look, all I need is a hotel floor, bruh.

Nigga, are you eating chocolate chips?

Nigga, I heard you.

Man. But I like what y'all doing here, bruh.

Fucking college bitches.

-ALFRED: Tracy, man. -It's your fucking cousin, man.

I think we need to talk about the real problem.

-Man, we listening nigga. What? -Watch your tone. Relax. Relax.

(man's voice on radio speaking Russian)

shit I should be getting out here.

* And try to do the things that a good man should *

Hey, what's up, team Paper Boi?

There was blood everywhere.

-He needed that. -(laughing)

(Violet chuckles)

-Your fucking dumb country ass. -Ooh, I want to see

I don't think you're cut out for it.

-It wasn't us. It was, um... -Come on, man.

He's just trying to earn his money. I can understand that.

Her roommate? Treasurer.

Yeah, those were classic.

And then this, like, intense light

Yeah, man, I was... I was performing at Pajama Jam.

We're leaving right now. It's-it's... We got to leave.

Where y'all going?

(Alfred laughs)

(cheering, shouting in distance)

Okay, we can just stay

Nigga. (grunts)

(indistinct shouting)

Yo! Stop fucking playing with me, man!

Yo, that Postal mixtape--

(excited chatter)

Yeah. No, I mean, it's obvious.

Oh, shit, let me get my jacket, bro.

-* Am I weak? * -* Ooh, ooh *

Open this fucking door!