Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

This guy was on his last legs.
Great. I'm on my way.
What kind of team's going to be left?
Relax, Gus. We need you here.
Fuck the fucking numbers already.
What's the problem?
Good react quote from me in Metro Write.
Focus, motherfucker, focus!
Yeah. Me?
You feel comfortable telling me where you got that?
I worked at the Sun-Sentinel in Lauderdale before this.
35 inches down to 12?
Transient locales, no nearest, no dearest. No one gives a fuck.
He has all the wisdom you need.
You're going to jail behind this shit. Yes, you are.
ghetto murders, but still,
Look at this.
Who the fuck isn't?
Hell of a catch, Detective. Hell of a catch.
Rawls, deputy for operations, might have the job for a few months,
Doing more with less.
FOCUS!
Complicated stuff, I suppose.
'Cause it's late now, and it's only gonna get later if we don't roll home soon.
He got a new friend.
We are, quite simply,
Burrell comes in here and owns these,
and he ain't need to know.
Focus, motherfucker, focus
On advice of my attorney, I ain't gonna answer that.
Jimmy, I just bought brand-new lawn chairs and a glass patio table.
- Yeah, right on. - Nice little dinner.
Nope, just missed him.
but mostly he just fucks himself.
- Hey, is box two open? - Not yet.
Fuck you. I mean that.
Where you at?
If he give up Omar, though, I want in on that shit.
4:30.
Beautiful.
Hit him with the spot.
Type quieter, asshole.
Badly. Kiss any raise goodbye.
Who the fuck do you need to hear it from, Jimmy?
Put some backspin on it, or else it'll bank off the box and not in it.