Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

It's all about self-preservation, Jimmy.
-We're losing the station, man. -What you mean?
-You got a 100 ships right there. -That's break-bulk, Nat.
Freezing my balls off.
صباح الخير يا أمي
We got nothing but problems, Father.
Yeah, two houses and a bar on Kane Street.
It seems Roberto Castellano y Silva has been targeted by the DEA.
-Ain't you the damn fool? -But then we low.
Some useless fuck in our Marine Unit faxed them a report...
How the hell....
-Nicky, from the docks. -Spiros.
Nenen
Easy. Everything breaks.
-How'd you know? -Useless fuck can't hold his liquor.
-How long was he on his own? -Not enough time to do shit, String.
All right, Uncle Frank.
You wanna see your window?
That makes two ships at North Point.
-Yeah, if you ain't senior, it does. -Yeah, you got that right.
Fucking Jimmy. Fucking with us for the fun of it.
And shrivel-dick motherfucker that you are, you take it.
You hear me, Zig? You're fired.
-What the fuck do you want? -I need you to do the seizures.
That would be on you, sweetheart.
-And as you can see-- -I can go as high as $4,000.
The Prince of Tides.
But early on a Tuesday, you arrive with an army.
That's why we didn't do the business?
Talking about the brain-deads in my Kane Street case.
Bunk Moreland.