‐ Laurie? Oh, my God! Whoo!
Why didn't you tell me you were coming?
I would've gotten a bed ready.
‐ No, don't worry about it!
You know, I'm staying with a friend anyway.
‐ Thank God. ‐ What's his name...this time?
‐ What you mean, "this time"?
[Linda laughs]
So how long have you two been a thing?
‐ Yo, Rie, I need you.
My mom, she, like‐‐ she got fucked up.
I need you to take care of Darius and Darren.
You think we gonna get married and have kids?
Kids that turn out like Darius and Darren?
Is that what you really want?
‐ Yes. ‐ You don't get it.
♪ ♪
‐ This shit sound kinda right.
‐ ♪ One, two, two, three, three, four ♪
‐ Four! And then yo' ass, you come in next.
‐ As long as my gun clap, I ain't gotta rap.
‐ Where's Shotgun at?
‐ Something happened with a forklift.
He messed up his ankle. He ain't been back since.
‐ Fuck this shit. We'll find another way to get the weed.
‐ Did you say weed?
BOBBY: That's the hustle we need.
It's foolproof.
No 5‐0, no real comp.
Shit is stress‐free.
SHA: My son heady sent me a kite.
Said that nigga 'Vine got fucked up
and thrown in the box.
Heard he lookin' at, like, 20.
POWER: That nigga rockin' the box.
You gonna be shittin' on the hood now.
This ride is yours.
Christmas came early, my nigga.
‐ Whoo‐hoo‐hoo!
‐ It's not just you up in here.
It's us, your family.
‐ I'll take the deal.
Everything felt just...dark...
And wrong.
It felt like I was in some kinda, uh, monster movie.
And when I looked up, you know,
I suddenly realized that I was the monster.
And the people that I was terrorizing was my family...
The people that I loved.
Hey, I‐I hurt myself.
I hurt my moms. I...
I hurt my relationship to the Lord.
By the time I realized that I was a‐‐an addict,
it was too late, you know?
Crack had consumed my life.
Uh, I was a fiend.
I don't know if I could ever forgive myself
for the‐‐ the pain I caused.
But I...
but I wanna change.
You know, crack‐‐ crack will never own me again.
Thank you.
‐ Crack cocaine is waging a brutal war on our island.
And I intend to be brutal back.
But I believe a successful war
is only measured by how we treat the survivors,
who are its real victims.
I'm releasing you on parole, Mr. Diggs.
Eight months to be served
in a rehab facility of the court's choosing.
Good luck, and merry Christmas.
[gavel bangs]
[calm, contemplative music]
♪ ♪
‐ [laughing]
♪ ♪
[mysterious music]
♪ ♪
[hip‐hop music]
[men grunting]
[blade resounds]
♪ ♪
[gun cocks]
♪ ♪
[dice thud]
♪ ♪
[blade resounds]
[tape whirring]
SHOTGUN: ♪ Here we, here we go ♪
♪ Who got the hype shit? ♪
♪ Killa Hill, Killa, Killa Hill ♪
♪ Who got the hype shit? ♪
♪ Killa Hill, Killa, Killa Hill ♪
♪ Who got the hype shit? ♪
♪ Killa Hill, Killa, Killa Hill ♪
♪ Who got the hype shit? ♪
♪ Killa Hill, Killa, Killa Hill ♪
♪ Who got the hype shit? ♪
♪ Killa Hill, Killa, Killa Hill ♪
WOMAN: Damn, who is this? WOMAN: Oh, shit.
This is that joint I heard in Park Hill the other day.
WOMAN: Someone from our neighborhood made this shit?
Now they're playing it here?
Then you know this shit is phat.
SHOTGUN: ♪ Fresh in the flesh, kickin' somethin' brand‐new ♪
MAN: Yo, you make this beat, man?
‐ Yeah. ‐ It sound like a hit.
♪ ♪
‐ And one day soon, that real shit?
Yeah, that's gonna be up on that wall.
‐ Yo, sugar sell the pie, man.
‐ Let me, uh...
Give me some of them blank tapes.
♪ ♪
Don't sell this shit to nobody else, all right?
If more come in,
put 'em in the back and I'll buy you out.
‐ Why this one? You think they sound different?
‐ Red top, blue top. ‐ [chuckles]
Yo, you trying to brand like you out on the block?
‐ Why not?
All this shit is dope, right?
‐ Yes, it is, man. ‐ [laughs]
‐ Ah.
Come on, cripple.
‐ I can't believe I got hurt at work.
Yo, with these crutches... ‐ Uh‐huh.
‐ Getting to the bus,
the ferry...
in the winter?
Psh.
I was late for work every day, bro.
‐ Damn. ‐ Felt bad as a motherfucker.
‐ Mm‐hmm. ‐ So I had to quit.
‐ Psh. ‐ Plus, my living situation‐‐
I mean, I love my moms,
but I can't be up in there no more.
‐ So where you staying at now? ‐ My nigga Rebel's,
till I get my own spot.
‐ Hey, if you're looking for any cash,
let me know if you want to be put on.
‐ Come on, now, you know that ain't me.
You know that.
Something gonna work out.
[Shotgun rapping]
You hear that shit?
‐ Yeah! ‐ That's my shit.
♪ I get treated just like a outlaw ♪
♪ Wanted dead or alive, who got the hype? ♪
♪ Killa Hill, Killa, Killa Hill ♪
♪ Who got the hype shit? Killa, Killa Hill ♪
♪ Who got the hype shit? ♪ ‐ Damn, son.
You murderin' that.
‐ Yo. You hear that?
‐ Hell, yeah. ‐ Uh‐huh.
‐ Yeah, nigga. The whole hood is feelin' you.
‐ Shit.
Shit, them dreads need to start
sellin' our shit in there, son.
What you got in there?
‐ Oh, shit.
I was tryin' to show you these, yo.
‐ I like that yellow and black. ‐ You fuck with that?
‐ Hell, yeah. ‐ Yellow and black, right?
‐ Have them tapes swarmin' in the hood
like killer bees and shit.
‐ I like that shit, nigga.
‐ Damn, son. You definitely found your lane.
That beat is hard.
‐ Respect. ‐ Mm‐hmm.
‐ Shit, I already got the next joint.
♪ Brothas don't know how to flow ♪
♪ Like, "Oh, shit, I can dip," I'm a hip‐hop pro ♪
♪ Who want to get fucked, the buck that bucks the buck ♪
♪ Viva like a squirrel and get a nut ♪
♪ Niggy nut, what ♪
‐ Yo, I fuck with that, nigga. ‐ Oh, shit.
Ooh, I got a couple lines. Let me write that down.
HAZE: I heard Divine gettin' out today.
You really stepped it up while he was gone.
‐ Yeah.
‐ Tell your brother I said what's up.
‐ I will.
‐ All right, boy. ‐ All right.
[scoffs]
‐ Gotta make moves, son.
Talk soon.
‐ Curfew is at 2300, sharp.
You must get and keep a job to live here.
Employment is mandatory. No visitors allowed.
Group therapy is mandatory.
This way.
Don't touch each other.
Violate any of these rules and your ass will be violated.
I see fiends like you come and go by the thousands.
I don't do no favors, and I don't suffer no fools.
‐ Yo.
Check this out, big man.
I ain't ask you for no favors.
I damn sure ain't no fool.
‐ [chuckles]
You don't want to mess with me.
I will throw your ass out of here like a fucking javelin.
You'll be right back serving your full sentence.
You understand me, youngblood?
‐ Yeah.
I understand.
‐ Must feel real good to have your boy back home.
‐ I couldn't take another day with him in the cage.
And I couldn't thank you enough for sending us that lawyer.
‐ That's a big order, smart lady.
You know, my Aunt Gina always used to say
you want to keep a man out of trouble,
keep his stomach full
and his balls empty.
First part's your territory... obviously.
‐ [laughs]
‐ Ricky.
Looks like your sister and Ricky are hittin' it off.
LAURIE: You got my numbers, right, Ricky?
So how come y'all don't play the numbers here?
‐ 'Cause I don't shit where I eat.
You could learn somethin' from that.
RANDY: The first time I played your song,
I had my whole class dancing.
Even the girls.
‐ Oh, word?
You was dancing with the girls?
‐ I tried to, and then Miss Shesh came over
and took the tape.
Can you make me another copy, Bobby?
‐ Yeah, of course I can make you another copy.
I can make all your friends copies.
I just bought a bunch of blank tapes today.
LINDA: Can somebody give me a hand?
‐ Yo, Aunt Laurie!
How long it's been, huh? Oh! ‐ [laughs]
I don't know, but I'm happy to see you.
You know my visit would not have been complete
without laying my eyes on the man of the house.
SHURRIE: Hey.
How's your mom? Is she okay?
‐ Yeah, she doing good.
DIVINE: Yo.
What is this, Pelle Pelle?
Man, you always had the flyest shit.
‐ Well, you know, times have been good.
‐ Uh‐huh. Uh‐huh. ‐ [laughs]
‐ Aunt Laurie, you know,
you didn't have to buy all this.
‐ Well, I would have, but actually,
it was Bobby that paid for this.
RANDY: Can we eat now? I'm hungry.
‐ Yo.
I been trying to get you to check this out.
My new joint I did with Shotgun
playing at the record store today.
I might even get them to sell that shit.
Where you been at lately?
‐ Yeah, my moms got me puttin' in overtime
with my brothers and shit, so you know how that go.
[footsteps approaching]
‐ This place is looking like Radio Shack.
Shit, I see you making a come‐up.
‐ Yeah.
You told me to step my game up,
so I did.
‐ Well, we need to get back to the real game.
‐ Yo, all the rent and bills are paid off.
You know that, right?
We got food in the fridge.
So how is this not the real game?
‐ Selling weed to Wall Street is not a model with growth.
BOBBY: Growth?
We got shit covered over here.
‐ Yeah, for real, 'Vine.
This shit the easiest money we ever made, yo.
We ain't competin' with no street niggas.
And the cops ain't even comin' around, son.
‐ I was tryin' to build somethin'
that was gonna take all of us outta here.
You know, get a‐‐ get a lab
up in fuckin' Grimes Hill or somewhere.
And your measly hustle is bullshit.
‐ Bullshit?
Well, Ma don't think it's bullshit.
‐ I went to jail 'cause of you two.
‐ Yo' ass got out because of us too.
‐ I lost all my money 'cause of you two niggas.
You two niggas handed the fucking game to Power,
and I'm supposed to say... thank you?
Nah, nigga, fuck you!
[dramatic music]
♪ ♪
‐ Don't you got a curfew?
♪ ♪
MAN: You sittin' there, and this bitch
just starin' at you
with a yellow notepad,
just writin' shit down.
Who she even gonna show that shit to?
And that's why black folks don't go to therapy.
WOMAN: Church is all the therapy I need.
‐ Yeah...
but they always want you to talk to God.
What if he ain't talking back?
‐ We all just fightin' to keep that tiny fire of hope goin'.
But hope can hurt like a motherfucker.
GROUP LEADER: Divine, would you like to share something?
[horn honks]
DIVINE: Hope?
I know what that feels like.
When you're out there with your friends...
Yo, Power!
Just trying to be a kid, you know?
MAN: How much you make out here a day
selling newspapers?
DIVINE: My best, 20 bucks.
MAN: Not bad.
When you're 10, 11, 20 bucks is great.
But how about when you're 14?
18?
22? You gotta have a bigger plan.
You want to get off the toll booth
so you're not selling newspapers
to people in cars like mine
but driving one yourself.
DIVINE: But then life hits you...hard.
[man shouts]
And all you're trying to do is make it through the day.
‐ Look at that.
Man of the house.
Taking care of his mama.
Ooh, I don't know what I'd do without you.
DIVINE: And you realize that hope,
hope is a lie you tell yourself to keep going.
DENNIS: Hey, yo, Bobby. ‐ Hey, what's good, yo?
‐ Hey, yo, I listened to your tape, nigga.
How you let that Park Hill bitch dis us like that, son?
‐ The fuck is you talking about?
‐ ♪ Who got the hype shit? ♪
♪ Killa Hill, Killa, Killa Hill ♪
‐ That ain't no dis, nigga.
That's fuckin' hip‐hop, yo. ‐ Nah, fuck that.
You let that Park Hill clown
dis you on your own track, nigga.
That don't mean nothing to you, son?
‐ Hey, take that shit outside.
We don't need none of that in here.
[funky music playing]
‐ [scoffs]
[man speaking indistinctly]
WOMAN: Yo, our mom don't be playin' at all.
[dial tone humming, coin clattering]
[touch‐tones beeping]
[line ringing]
[pager beeping]
[somber music]
♪ ♪
‐ [snoring]
‐ All right. Hey, yo, you want to hit this with me?
‐ Nah, I don't want to fuck up
you and your girl's alone time, son.
‐ Come on, do it look like she mind?
[yelling] Hey, yo, Tina, do you mind?
[both chuckle]
‐ A'ight, son.
‐ Hey, I just got this shit the other day.
'Bout to shine on niggas.
‐ Hey, yo, where you got that shit from?
Rockaway Beach? ‐ [both laugh]
‐ Hey, stop playin' with me.
I got this shit from the Diamond District.
Shit official.
‐ Yeah, official you got took, nigga.
Them rocks cloudier than this fucking room.
‐ [laughs]
Hey.
I've been meaning to tell you too,
I seen you at the Park Villa battle.
I ain't know you could spit like that.
That shit was fire.
‐ Yeah, you ain't even gotta tell me, son.
Hey, yo, you still making beats?
‐ I never stopped.
There just ain't been nobody dope enough
to rhyme over my shit, you know?
You hear Shotgun's joint?
DENNIS: [scoffs] That shit's trash.
[hip‐hop music playing]
♪ ♪
Yo, that shit tight, son.
‐ Yeah, yeah. Hey.
Hey, jump on the mic. Lay some shit down.
We can come way harder than that Killa Hill track.
‐ ♪ Shotgun is dead, got rhymes for bitches ♪
♪ This is real street G rap shit, road to riches ♪
♪ Huntin' niggas is startin' head‐buttin' they bitches ♪
♪ Set Blackbeard on fire, nigga, we vicious ♪
♪ ♪
‐ Yo!
That verse was crazy!
Hey, I told you the acoustics in here was special, right?
‐ Yeah, yeah, yeah.
‐ Just go ahead and hit me with that next verse, nigga.
‐ [laughs]
[indistinct chatter]
[horn honks]
SHA: Yo, what's good, shorty, what's good?
What you listenin' to?
‐ The nigga Shotgun joint.
What else would I be bumpin'?
‐ Yeah, a'ight.
GIRL: ♪ Killa Hill, Killa, Killa Hill ♪
‐ You know, I rhyme too.
SHOTGUN: ♪ Killa Hill, Killa, Killa Hill ♪
♪ Who got the hype shit? ♪
♪ Killa Hill, Killa, Killa Hill ♪
♪ Who got the hype shit? ♪
♪ Killa Hill, Killa, Killa Hill ♪
MAN: ♪ No more Mr. Nice Guy ♪
DENNIS: Uh‐huh, yeah.
♪ Killa, death to all them niggas up there ♪
♪ Death to all Hill niggas ♪
♪ They know what it is, Stapleton versus the Hill ♪
♪ All day, nigga, we got that knuckle game up ♪
BYRON: Yeah, that's that real rap right there.
DENNIS: ♪ Yeah, yo, yo ♪
♪ Police stations, criminal investigations ♪
♪ gang man murders, snitches cooperatin' ♪
♪ Keep a black TEC to catch the Hill niggas ♪
‐ Hey, yo.
Hey, make sure this shit spread through the streets, a'ight?
DENNIS: ♪ My man switched up ♪
[music stops, echoes]
MAN: ♪ No more Mr. Nice Guy ♪
DENNIS: ♪ We got the Glocks, the TECs ♪
♪ We got the pumps too ♪
MAN: ♪ No, no, no more Mr. Nice Guy ♪
DENNIS: ♪ If you ain't reppin' the Staple ♪
♪ My nigga, fuck you ♪
♪ I'm not down with the DOD ♪
♪ The ave or the wrecked posse ♪
♪ Black king, Haile Selassie, the feds watch me ♪
♪ Nah, you can't box me, see me in the scuffle ♪
♪ I belt you until you buckle ♪
♪ The knuckle game rocky, it's Hill niggas ♪
♪ Against Stapleton real niggas ♪
♪ Rob you and your bitch, we Jack and Jill niggas ♪
♪ ♪
[door squeaks open, clicks shut]
‐ Ooh‐hoo‐hoo! Your ass is funky.
Underarms hummin' like some cut onions or somethin'.
Yo, you need to put some Egyptian Musk on, son.
Word. ‐ Hey, what is it, nigga?
‐ You heard this?
Dennis put out a tape on his own.
Boo‐yah. Check it out, son.
Been tearin' up the streets all day.
Your boy D‐Lover came out of retirement.
He got himself a hit, boy!
Huh!
MAN: ♪ No, no, no more Mr. Nice Guy ♪
DENNIS: ♪ I'll teach you the art of war, word to Sun Tzu ♪
MAN: ♪ No, no, no more Mr. Nice Guy ♪
DENNIS: ♪ 'Cause you already know how me and my sons do ♪
MAN: ♪ No, no, no more Mr. Nice Guy ♪
DENNIS: ♪ We got the Glocks, the TECs ♪
♪ We got the pumps too ♪
MAN: ♪ No, no, no more Mr. Nice Guy ♪
‐ He callin' you out, son!
DENNIS: ♪ If you ain't reppin' the Staple ♪
♪ My nigga, fuck you ♪
‐ Ho, ho, ho! [laughs]
Merry Christmas... ‐ Hey!
‐ My favorite family Diggs. ‐ Hi.
‐ Hello.
‐ Merry Christmas. Merry Christmas.
‐ Oh. ‐ [giggles]
‐ [laughs]
Randy, no, you ain't to open that.
‐ No, let him open it. It's okay.
I always hated waiting too.
[music playing over speakers]
‐ Whoa!
Oh, my gosh.
‐ Girl, that's too much, even for you.
RANDY: I always wanted one of these!
‐ Girl, relax.
♪ ♪
My number hit.
LINDA: Where'd you play the numbers?
LAURIE: At the Rib Shack.
[laughs]
You should've seen Larry's face.
Girl, I told you, it was all in the cards.
You know, sometimes you just gotta
open yourself up to the world
and good forces will come to yo' aid.
‐ Gotta go check the oven.
♪ ♪
‐ So how you livin', pretty girl?
♪ ♪
How's your man?
‐ At first, I thought he was just messed up
'cause of his moms, but now it just feels like‐‐
I don't know.
♪ ♪
‐ You want me to knock some sense into him for you?
[both chuckle]
Here.
♪ ♪
Open it.
♪ ♪
‐ "The Piano Lesson"?
‐ [whispering] On Broadway.
‐ [gasps]
‐ I saw it when I was in Chicago once.
I know you'll love it.
You should take Dennis.
‐ Oh. ‐ [laughs]
♪ ♪
So you got something to drink?
In the back of the cupboard, if you know what I mean.
‐ What'd you give that girl?
♪ ♪
‐ A little bit of inspiration.
Which you may think of giving her from time to time.
‐ You show up every couple of years
with a new song and dance.
New job, new coat.
You come and go as you please.
‐ Okay, first of all, don't get mad at me
'cause I never got tied down, Linda.
I live life.
And I go where it takes me.
‐ And the problem with going where life takes you
is that you are never going anywhere.
You're in and out of beds. You're in and out of doors.
You're nowhere.
[tense music]
‐ I don't‐‐ ‐ Go ahead.
I can't wait to hear the excuse
that comes out of your mouth this time.
♪ ♪
‐ Well, I can tell when I've worn out my welcome.
♪ ♪
Keep the love alive, baby girl.
♪ ♪
GROUP LEADER: Okay, so you guys
have the next few days off,
so you won't have me harpin' at ya.
That being said, you all need to use this time
to go out there and look for a job.
Hit it hard. Really pound the pavement.
[both moaning]
‐ [moaning] ‐ [grunting]
NIA: 'Vine? ‐ Yeah, babe?
‐ [clears throat]
‐ Yo, I told you not to get me nothin'.
‐ Just open it, baby.
Open it.
[police siren wailing faintly]
I figured it could help you
look more professional for your job interviews.
Plus, I know you have a real strict curfew.
And I don't want nothing taking you away from me again.
You like it?
Try it on. Come on.
‐ I mean, baby, it ain't my color, so...
‐ But you're still gonna wear it.
‐ [laughs]
‐ Is that too tight? Okay.
Looks good.
‐ I love it. Thank you.
MAN: ♪ No, no, no more Mr. Nice Guy ♪
DENNIS: ♪ If you ain't reppin' the Staple ♪
♪ My nigga, fuck you ♪
♪ I'm not down with the DOD ♪
♪ The ave or the wrecked posse ♪
♪ Black king, Haile Selassie, the feds watch me ♪
♪ Nah, you can't box me, see me in the scuffle ♪
[knock at door]
♪ The knuckle game rocky, it's Hill niggas ♪
♪ Against Stapleton real niggas ♪
‐ Larry.
Is everything all right, honey?
‐ Hey, doll. We gotta talk.
DENNIS: ♪ Yeah, that bomber will fit me ♪
♪ We make you run your garments ♪
♪ Make you run all your jewels and your cash ♪
♪ We sackin' quarterbacks out here ♪
♪ That mean nobody get a pass ♪
♪ Give 'em hell, stay in your house ♪
♪ Like a prison cell, come to our block ♪
♪ We strippin' niggas like it's Chippendales ♪
‐ Bobby. Turn the music off.
‐ No, no, Bobby, that's okay.
We like music.
DENNIS: ♪ Black hoodies, we snuck up ♪
♪ Like conceited bitches, all you pussies gettin' stuck up ♪
♪ When stickup kids are talkin' ♪
[music stops]
PATXI: Tell us what you think of this track.
JOHN VALBY: ♪ Niggers in the night ♪
♪ You never see those niggers in the night ♪
♪ You only smell those niggers in the night ♪
♪ When they sneak up on you ♪
MAN: Whoo! MAN: Whoo!
VALBY: ♪ Lazy fucking spooks ♪
♪ Collecting welfare ♪
♪ Driving Cadillacs ♪
♪ What the fuck do they care? ♪
♪ When they need some bucks ♪
‐ ♪ Then they just steal from you! ♪
[cheers and applause]
RANDY: Mom!
‐ Randy, stay upstairs.
Shurrie.
Go see about your brother.
‐ You know what this song is about?
Thieves.
Filthy fuckin' cheaters.
‐ We ain't steal nothing from you.
LARRY: Sweetheart... we're not saying
you stole anything.
Linda, where's your sister?
‐ My sister? ‐ Yeah. She did something.
‐ Yeah, what this fat fuck is trying to say
is, your pig sister
and one of our guys cheated on the numbers.
And since our guy is, uh... [clears throat] missing
and he can't pay us back
and your sister's in the wind...
Somebody else has gotta make it right.
[tense music]
Do you understand what I'm saying to you?
♪ ♪
‐ Yo, I‐I can't believe she did us like that.
‐ I can.
I'll deal with her another day.
Right now, we need to keep this family safe.
‐ All right. I'll handle it.
LINDA: No. You just got out.
You're not jeopardizing your parole
by getting caught up in all this.
DIVINE: Ma. ‐ She's right.
[dramatic music]
I've got this.
The basement is all mine?
‐ Well, you always said you wanted your own room.
‐ Shit. Yours is bigger than mine.
‐ Thanks, 'Vine.
SHURRIE: Come here. [giggles]
You like it?
It's our new home! [giggles]
Come on, let's go. [laughs]
‐ I can't believe it.
[laughs]
I think I'm dreaming.
‐ Well, uh, I signed the lease yesterday.
So, uh, Merry Christmas, Mom.
[laughter]
‐ How's your moms and the rest of the fam?
‐ Oh, you know, everyone's good.
‐ Yo, I heard one of Bobby's tracks the other day.
That shit was on point.
That nigga's got some serious talent, yo.
For real.
‐ Hmm.
‐ Yo, 'Vine.
I just want to say,
I didn't like how all that shit went down.
But, you know, me and Cressy
can't get involved in that shit.
I'm glad Bobby and D came out okay.
‐ Yo, I never put that on you.
You always had my back.
And, uh, I need you to have my back right now.
‐ What you need?
‐ I want back in.
‐ You just got out.
Your PO's watching your every move.
You need to finish that shit first.
‐ No, come on, G, it's important.
‐ Bobby's got his little hustle going.
Hang out with your girl.
Spend time with your fam.
It's Christmas.
Come and see me when you're free and clear.
Yo, if you need money‐‐
‐ Nah. Nah, nah, nah, nah.
I'm good.
Yo, I...
I better be headin'.
‐ All right, son.
Peace. ‐ Yeah.
DENNIS: ♪ Stapleton versus the Hill ♪
MAN: Now, who is this?
WOMAN: I don't know.
WOMAN: Whoever he is, he is coming back
at Killa Hill hard.
WOMAN: Stapleton got MCs too.
MAN: Staten Island gon' crush Brooklyn,
Queens, and the Bronx.
DENNIS: ♪ Blow the feathers out of their goose ♪
♪ That's Hilfiger ♪
♪ My man switched up, playing it both sides ♪
♪ When shit get funky, let's see where he gon' ride ♪
♪ Shotgun is dead, got rhymes for bitches ♪
‐ You got a talent you can't just be triflin' with.
You spittin' straight fire on this.
‐ Yeah, I fuckin' am.
♪ ♪
‐ Hey, yo, I need you to come with me uptown.
Yo, my moms is in trouble.
♪ ♪
We gotta cop some more weed, a'ight, go harder.
DENNIS: ♪ Shotgun is dead, got rhymes for bitches ♪
♪ This is real street G rap shit, roads to riches ♪
LINDA: Shurrie.
SHURRIE: What?
‐ I had to take back Randy's Atari
and all the other gifts that Aunt Laurie bought.
So if Laurie gave you something else,
it's time to stand by your family and help.
‐ [sighs] She bought me tickets to a play.
‐ You're gonna have to return them.
Or give them to me. I'll sell 'em.
‐ Mom, the play is tonight.
‐ Those tickets were bought
with stolen money.
‐ It's not fair!
You talkin' about, it's bad?
It's bought with stolen money?
Your rent is paid for by Bobby and Divine selling drugs.
[dramatic music]
‐ When you support a house full of kids all on your own,
then you can come tell me about what's not fair.
♪ ♪
‐ [groans] ‐ [giggles]
Oh! Mm.
Look at you surprising me.
[chuckles]
Don't let this girl get spoiled, now.
You don't want to live that life, baby.
‐ Yo, can I get a ride uptown?
‐ Oh, I gotta go to work.
What's going on?
Hey, I need to pick up something.
And I ain't got time to make it on the train.
‐ Pick up what something?
You ain't even got the money for a re‐up.
‐ The Dominicans will front me.
‐ [sighs] No.
‐ No, come on, Nia, I need this.
‐ I said no.
‐ Hey, the only reason why you have this fucking car
is because I was hustling when you got laid off.
Now, you would've had to sell that shit, remember?
‐ Yeah. I remember.
And I know I've been riding with you for all these years,
but I'm telling you that I don't want none of this
in my life no more.
‐ All right. I need it for my moms.
‐ Divine.
You know I love you.
♪ ♪
And I know you.
That ain't what this is.
Not really.
Baby, you ain't got nobody to prove yourself to.
Okay, you'll figure out another way to help your mother.
♪ ♪
‐ Hey, look. Look.
No, we need to go, huh?
We need to go now.
♪ ♪
Come on, Nia.
Nia, come on.
Hey, Nia, Nia! No!
No, hey, Nia. Please?
Nia, come on.
‐ If you want to go down that road,
I can't stop you.
But you gonna have to go alone.
‐ Hey. ‐ Let go.
‐ Hey, Nia.
Hey, Nia! Come on!
♪ ♪
Fuck her.
[Ason beatboxing]
‐ ♪ Uh ♪
♪ Uh, hey, yo, live from Staten ♪
♪ Rappin', even when I'm limpin' ♪
♪ Chicks wanna rub on my lamp like I'm Aladdin ♪
♪ Play 'em like Madden ♪
♪ Grab the weed out the bag and ♪
♪ Light it up with a fire‐breathin' dragon ♪
♪ Yo ♪
‐ [vocalizing]
‐ ♪ Yo ♪
♪ Hey, yo, yo ♪
♪ Hey, yo, who the hell you dissin'? ♪
♪ Wait, listen, and I'm a drug dietician ♪
♪ You dealers wake up with your weight missin' ♪
♪ I keep my grass low ♪
♪ So I can hear the snakes hissin' ♪
♪ I got so many bars ♪
♪ I should build a state prison ♪
Hey, yo.
What you got?
‐ I got business.
You think you're gonna be a star and all that,
so you out here wasting your fucking time
rhyming on some Memorex tape.
Well, you got some grown‐ass men that gotta
get out here and make this paper.
‐ Yo, make sure you get this down on paper.
♪ Writin' like a novelist, I'ma bomb the metropolis ♪
♪ You gonna need God to just come and stop this apocalypse ♪
♪ Rockin' this to put you impostors in a sarcophagus ♪
♪ Alcoholic, drinking every drop of your confidence ♪
♪ Hol' up, roll up an L if you got one ♪
♪ I stay loaded, that's why they call me Shotgun ♪
Pow! MAN: There it is.
MARCUS: I know I'm not smelling weed up in here.
MAN: Man, fuck that.
MAN: Here we go. MAN: Man, this is bullshit.
‐ All right, y'all. Let's get going.
‐ We ain't even doing nothing, son.
‐ Don't try and play me.
I grew up in this building. You know that.
‐ Yo, you might be from Killa Hill,
but you still a sucka, nigga. ‐ Yeah, you sucka.
‐ Don't make me write your asses up
for loitering, because I will.
‐ Whatever, whatever, son.
‐ This guy's always hatin'.
‐ Fuckin' Jake.
‐ [knocking] Shurrie.
Baby, listen.
‐ Shurrie is gone.
[stark music]
♪ ♪
[no audible dialogue]
♪ ♪
[no audible dialogue]
♪ ♪
[no audible dialogue]
♪ ♪
[no audible dialogue]
♪ ♪
[applause]
♪ ♪
‐ Fuck.
[panting]
‐ Twenty more seconds, your ass would've been
right back in the joint.
‐ Twenty more seconds, man.
♪ ♪
LINDA: I can't believe it. I think I'm dreaming.
♪ ♪
You're always coming through, Divine.
‐ Pfft. ‐ [laughs]
Whoo! ‐ Yeah.
‐ [laughs] ‐ Yeah?
[both laughing]
‐ Whoa! [laughs] ‐ Show me my room.
‐ You want yours? Upstairs. ‐ Come on. Let's do it.
‐ Upstairs. ‐ [laughs]
‐ The queen bedroom. LINDA: Move out the way!
♪ ♪
HAZE: Yo, 'Vine.
Got you a Christmas present.
Holidays bring out the fiends like you're in a monster movie.
Gotta keep 'em in line.
[laughs]
‐ [chuckles]
‐ You done DJ'ing today, nigga.
I got this.
‐ 'Vine, what you did was big, man.
How moms like it?
‐ Loves it. ‐ Word.
‐ They never seen so much space.
Their voices be echoing when they talk to each other.
‐ [laughs]
Word up, man.
[somber orchestral music]
♪ ♪
MAN: Get on the line.