Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

Plus, don't you have to tell your P.O. if you leave?
-TRACY: For real? For real? -EARN: Yeah, yeah, nigga.
-was trying to get me! -We got to... we got to go now.
Yeah. We made it.
Whoo-hoo-hoo!
Newbies got to pay the price, right?
We have a whole gun room.
All right, pledges, get the fuck up!
You know, she got an unrealistic worldview
Thank you. (chuckles)
*
Oh, damn. Shit.
-* 'Cause you so thick... * -(laughing)
(chuckles)
(inhales, exhales loudly)
-That's fucked up, bruh. -Fuck, bro.
Hey, man, if you want this money,
-No, fuck this dude, man. -I-I'm gonna take care of this.
We got some other shit in the house, too. We'll smoke you out.
(woman laughing)
-Appreciate you. -For sure, baby.
We can find space.
(music playing in distance)
Violet! Violet!
(lively chatter nearby)
CLARK: Generous, man. Thank you.
I like the outfits, man. Y'all trying to get lit with us?
-TRACY: I'm trying to see that shit. -No, go ahead.
Hit it from here to there.
-that shit, man. -Pull the fucking car over.
All new, Wednesdays at 10:00 on FX.
-Man, don't do this to me, nigga. -TRACY: I'm on probation!
What you mean, no hotel?
-Man, we standing right here, nigga. -What y'all do
ANNOUNCER: Trust.
-All right, man. -EARN: Hey.
-from these niggas, man. -Yo, where the fuck is Tracy?
Oh, yeah, man, like I was saying, though, yo.
ANNOUNCER: The Americans. Final season.
* You're nothing but a dirty, dirty old man *