Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

then whatever comes out of Burrell's mouth is gonna stand.
At the time, Stringer Bell was at the print shop.
- It's for Russell Bell's dirty cell. - It's a good pull.
A nigga step in my house, he getting dropped.
then you got the means to put your hip into the punch.
Is that suppose to mean something to me, man?
- But it's safe. - WMDs, got them WMDs.
Look like you and me both trying to make sense of this game.
If Burrell's painting him the villain...
- You're expecting what? - Payout.
with a briefcase full of drug money?
This is an old game in this town, and Clay Davis?
I seen your picture on them Globe posters back in the day.
They gonna say all that firepower is theirs.
and attest that the information contained in this document...
You got this headgear right here. It's new.
who will happily put His Honor's shit in the street.
That'd be Shamrock.
Us, motherfucker.
- You're gonna go to the press? - Not me.
- Well, he got to go. - No, you a fucking businessman.
- That's how you were standing. - You ain't had no weight on your back foot.
Nigga, I got to remind you who the fuck you work for?
Justin, come on. Come on.
Now here's Shamrock returning Bodie's call.
He wants me to turn the information over to Tony Gray...
Come on, boy, I'm calling your name.
Get you some water, boy, and spit it out.
- It's me, man. - You heard from the fat man?
There'll be nothing left of it before midnight shift.
If he made a mistake here, then I'm willing to pay the cost.
I ain't claiming no kind of victory, neither.
You should probably sell sweats with hoodies.
Us, man.
- I ain't asking. - Damn, String, I don't know...
It was a funeral parlor.
Whitey sale, whitey sale.
This is the neighborhood where a cop got shot last summer, right?
In fact, the folks downtown at Minor Privileges tell me...
Bing, you just pull the number right off the cell tower.
Clay Davis Rainmade you.
And...
It's genius.
- All right? - I'm good, I'm good.