Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

15 pitches and 10 of them have been balls.

-One-- -We're not here to talk cases.

and they all just a bunch of begging-ass bitches.

Anyway, you've got enough money to go get yourself one now.

Hell, why don't you just send me back to Property and keep everyone happy?

Doesn't drink anymore?

having been manipulated by older traffickers in his neighborhood.

-What girl? -The one in the apartment.

I don't know...

Go show your teacher. Come on, man.

He plays stiff every now and then, but he's a good man.

-What happened? -Nothing.

-Yeah, hello? -You ain't gonna believe who I'm looking at.

We reasoned. We did.

-Come on, Jay, be right on this. -I can't. It's Rawls, he wants warrants today.

That was one of them.... What i do you call it? A question you don't have to answer.

but he doesn't do much other than work. He's got this case in his gut like it's cancer.

It's too much drama, right?

-What about the dog? -Fuck the dog.

Oh, boy. Come on, get up! School day. Y'all gonna be late!

But one man with two barrels ain't enough, Omar.

Coming on into the low-rise courts.

Now, you're going to do what you're going to do.

You are a reasonable fucking guy

I'm ready to be good.

Fuck Daniels and his ass-kissing up-the-chain-of-command ambition.

"Bill Rawls, you are a reasonable fucking guy."

It was McNulty who made the ballistics match on these murders...

Just let it go.

Frankly, you been in it as long as me...

You know, with the jump-out, Omar, all that shit.

That's Omar's boy.

That nigger's enemies got enemies.

Come on. Take your juice.

playing with beepers and pay phones and body mikes...

dayı hadi looo kalk gari hadi loooo

Bailey? Please.

I swear, you show me the son of a bitch who can fix this police department...

Around the way.

Hotter than the Wu-Tang, killer bee.

Ain't nothing going late, man.

-Major, I'm not-- -He's a good-looking kid, huh?

I'm a man of my word. I said it would be $4,000 to Omar...

-What's up? Where you at? -Where you at?

You trying to rip out my guts?

In the cemetery, you were telling us that a guy named Bird killed the working man.

And fuck up our case in the process.

for 40 cents a foot, you might as well go to Home Depot, pay them.

Did you know what you were doing when you left the Boys' Village, son?