Wu-Tang: An American Saga (2019) s01e03 Episode Script
All in Together Now
1 SHA: Yo, you gotta tell Momma Sa, that oxtail with the red beans, son truth.
DIVINE: The kilos have come to the Island.
DENNIS: That's 18K, thereabouts.
We new members or what? Get these niggas some dessert.
BOBBY: I don't think we should be leaving all of our supply in one place.
What the fuck you waiting for? [DRAMATIC MUSIC.]
[GLASS SHATTERS.]
- ASON: [COUGHING.]
- Yo, anybody grab the stash? The money? Nothing? BOBBY: My music.
SHA: B.
O.
B.
Where's my gun? That shit ain't here.
Nigga, Dennis got that shit.
What? You supposed to be my ace.
[DOOR CLICKS SHUT.]
[TIRES SCREECH.]
ASON: Oh, shit, here come Jah Son.
- Bobby D, what's up? - BOBBY: Yo, what up, Jah? JAH SON: Yo, that nigga Haze.
There go Cressy too.
Hey, how much you think them chains cost? Don't worry about it.
- Ah! - Run your jewels, nigga! Now, you gon' run your jewels, unless you wanna lose your family jewels, motherfucker.
Hurry up.
[LAUGHS.]
Ooh, those shits is ill, son! These joints is one of a kind.
[REWINDING TAPE SQUEALS.]
[TENSE PERCUSSIVE MUSIC.]
Ras clot - [GUNSHOTS BOOM.]
- [CROWD SCREAMS.]
[DRAMATIC MUSIC.]
[PANTING.]
- [REVVING MOTOR RECEDES.]
- [HEARTBEAT THUMPING.]
JAH SON: I'm feelin' like motherfuckin' Scarface in this bitch, nigga.
[HEARTBEAT THUMPING.]
Visit your mom, nigga.
I know she fucking misses you.
She told me that shit last night.
Leave the gun.
Take the cannoli.
[HEARTBEAT THUMPING.]
[HEARTBEAT THUMPING.]
ANNOUNCER: Game over.
Try again.
[HEARTBEAT THUMPING.]
[ELECTRONIC PULSING.]
- DJ: Wu-Tang again? - CALLER: Aw, yeah.
Again and again.
[PAGER BEEPING.]
- You Jah Son? - JAH SON: Hey, yo! - COP: Freeze! - JAH: Chill, chill, chill! - Shit! - Shit, nigga.
I'm sending assistance! [TIRES SCREECH.]
[POLICE SIREN WAILING.]
JAH SON: What the fuck? [BRIGHT WARBLING, LO-FI BLEEPING.]
DENNIS: Yo, Jah, you're lucky.
JAH SON: Shit, we both been lucky.
Game might get you too, especially the way me and you been playin' it.
DENNIS: Hey, yo, what else we supposed to do? We born into this shit.
I mean, we ain't really got much of a choice, know what I mean? JAH SON: Yo, this your old rhyme book? - [ELECTRONIC BLEEPING.]
- Nigga, why you stop? I always thought you was dope.
- Man, whatever.
- JAH SON: Nah, yo, for real! [BRIGHT WARBLING, LO-FI BLEEPING.]
He a creep, but his whole life now turned to hell When the stray shell sent for Rahmel hit Michelle JAH: Whoo-hoo! I'ma need me a copy of that shit.
[ELECTRONIC PINGING, BRIGHT PULSING.]
[BRIGHT WARBLING, LO-FI BLEEPING.]
Yo, DJ Nasty Nick, I got this tape, you heard? Want you to play this shit on your show, tonight.
I don't think so.
Doesn't work that way.
JAH SON: Oh, nah? Ah, tell me how it does work, Mr.
DJ.
Yo, I told you I'd get you on the radio, son! Like it's funny and shit Catchin' beef on the reg, Rick ready Radio, son! So are we gonna make a record or what, D-Lover? I don't know.
Depends on what my manager says.
JAH SON: [LAUGHS.]
What the fuck you think I'm gonna say, nigga? [BRIGHT WHOOSHING, LO-FI BLEEPING.]
[ELECTRONIC PLINKING.]
Yo, look at this shit, son.
JAH SON: Hard work pays off.
Yo, this is that real Iron Man, Tony Stark shit, son, know what I mean? Yo, n-niggas ain't niggas ain't even up with 'em yet, son.
We made it.
But nah, you gotta come out to LA, though.
Yeah, you too.
JAH: Yo, looking good, Billy Ray.
Feeling good, Louis.
JAH SON: You see, D-Lover? This what happens when you play the game right.
ANNOUNCER: You win! - [GUNSHOTS BOOM.]
- [CROWD SCREAMS.]
You lose.
[DESCENDING LO-FI ARPEGGIO.]
[STATIC CRACKLING.]
[WIND HOWLING.]
[SOMBER ORGAN MUSIC.]
REV.
WILLIAMS: Now, we will hear a few words from the mother.
Then I will share a few words from the good book.
Then we will head to the dining hall for some food, amen.
PERSON: Miss.
REV.
WILLIAMS: And get you all on your way.
Amen.
CROWD: [MURMURING.]
Amen.
ELISE: No! Please, no! No, no, don't take my baby.
Don't take my baby! No, please! Oh, please, God, no! REV.
WILLIAMS: Since the mother is not able to speak, and the father is not present ELISE: Oh, I can't.
[SOBBING.]
REV.
WILLIAMS: I will go on with my sermon, unless there is anyone who would love to share.
I have a few words.
REV.
WILLIAMS: Okay, sister.
LINDA: Here we all are again, sitting amongst each other [SIGHS.]
'cause another mother's son has been taken from us, over material items that can be replaced.
Well, Jah Son's life can't be replaced.
- ATTENDEE: No.
- ATTENDEE: Nope.
[CROWD MURMURING.]
[CHUCKLES.]
[TENDER PIANO MUSIC.]
That boy made everyone smile.
He was so funny and full of life.
Maybe he could've been the next Eddie Murphy.
Lord knows his outfits could light up a room.
[LAUGHTER.]
The pain of labor and giving birth, it's an indescribable pain.
But imagine the pain a mother feels when her child is killed in cold blood.
We mothers don't imagine our babies as thugs, gangsters, murderers.
We see them as our children.
And I know your so-called street cred may want you to get vengeance.
But vengeance is mine, so sayeth the Lord.
CROWD: [SCATTERED.]
Amen.
LINDA: And the soul that pulls the trigger, I reckon, will suffer in his own hell.
- ATTENDEE: Amen.
- ATTENDEE: That's right.
[LIGHT APPLAUSE.]
LINDA: So mothers, daughters, sons, friends, neighbors For God's sake, you've got to stop all the shooting in our communities.
ATTENDEE: That's right.
This is our home.
ATTENDEE: Amen! These are our babies.
ATTENDEE: Amen.
[LIGHT APPLAUSE.]
[HIP-HOP MUSIC.]
[MEN GRUNTING.]
[BLADE RESOUNDS.]
[GUN COCKS.]
[DICE THUD.]
[BLADE RESOUNDS.]
I miss you, son.
Sorry I couldn't say good-bye.
GARY: Peace, Sha Rader.
What it be like, my dude? Long time, no see.
SHA: Capital G.
Mm.
You came all the way from Brooklyn? GARY: Come on, son.
For Jah, I would've came from across the world.
Know what I mean? SHA: Shit crazy.
Nah, you know what's crazy? Is how .
5 grams of lead can decimate a 160-pound body, dawg.
Yo, Aunt Linda was speaking the truth up there.
They didn't have to do Jah Son like that.
SHA: True indeed.
Shit ain't right.
Word up.
Hey, yo, Bobby, cuz, come here.
That last joint y'all did, "Schooling Brothers", was making noise all last summer.
Even in Brooklyn.
Tapes was gettin' worn out.
I had mad copies, niggas just stole 'em all.
Know what I mean? Word.
Hey, I can make you another dub.
It's not about another dub, Bobby.
I'm talkin' about another tape.
When are y'all gonna start making more music together? - I don't even know.
- We been busy.
GARY: You and my cousin right here are the next EPMD.
Yeah, whatever's clever.
I got some B.
I.
to attend to.
Peace.
Peace.
Can everyone please make their way to the dining hall? We have another service to prepare for.
[DOOR CLICKS OPEN.]
[SOMBER MUSIC.]
BOBBY: Yo, D.
REV.
WILLIAMS: Hey, son.
Why don't you just go on and get yourself something to eat? Momma Sa Restaurant generously donated a feast for us.
DENNIS: Momma Sa? [TENSE MUSIC.]
REV.
WILLIAMS: Son, please.
[LOW CHATTER.]
[BOTH LAUGH.]
What's up, man? What you want? Red beans, rice? What's up? What up, nigga? [CROWD GASPING, MURMURING.]
- Hey, hey, hey, hey! - Help us out with that! Hey, yo, fuck this yo, nah, fuck this shit! Yo, tell Cressy to take this fuckin' fish and ackee and shove it up his fuckin' ass, nigga.
- Yo, yo, yo.
- Fuck! DENNIS: Fuck is wrong with you? Why you comin' at me like that? You know Jah was my man too! Yo, it ain't have to go down like that, son! Dennis! DENNIS: Hey, yo, tell that knotty-head nigga that his business in Stapleton is dead, son! We'd rather starve than to fuck with y'all niggas.
[SPITS.]
Fuck! Shit! Fuck! Bobby.
Shurrie.
Help me clean up this mess.
Baby, go on home, and you clean yourself up.
Thanks, Ms.
Diggs.
LINDA: Whoever didn't get a plate, just give us a moment.
We'll get you fed.
There was nothing I could've done.
Jah robbed the nigga.
The fuck you think was gonna happen? Yo, my Gs, we'll get past this.
We got a lot of biz to handle out here, you know what I'm saying? Nah.
I don't think I know what you're saying.
E'rybody loved Jah Son.
Everybody.
Yo, come on.
[LOW CHATTER.]
Hey, Ms.
Diggs.
I-I wanted to apologize to you and Ms.
Moore for what happened back there.
I was completely out of line.
It's a painful day, Dennis.
We understand.
But you make sure you go and apologize to Ms.
Moore yourself, though.
Yes, ma'am.
How're your brothers? They a'ight.
LINDA: And your mother? Same old, same old.
Mm.
Bet your boys are hungry.
Shurrie will make them a plate.
DENNIS: Nah, we we good.
LINDA: Nah, wait, no, you you already got one quarrel today.
You don't get another.
I'ma fix you one too.
So busy blowing off steam, you didn't get a chance to eat.
Thank you.
[DOOR CLICKS SHUT.]
[TENDER PIANO MUSIC.]
[BOTH SIGH.]
ASON: Yo! Yo, you pouring the whole bottle! Yo, Jah wouldn't want you wasting all this on him.
[MOMMA GANJA LAUGHS.]
He'd want this to go where it belong, son.
MOMMA GANJA: You foul.
GARY: 'Sup, cuz? 'Sup with that 'Vine situation? Shit, you know, still stuck in Brooklyn House.
All that money's going towards that lawyer, so You and D just burnt that bridge with Haze, right? We couldn't put out for another key anyway.
Lost all our shit in the fire.
Them niggas would never front us.
So fuck it.
Hey, I did start applying for jobs, though.
A nigga hasn't heard nothin' yet, but what else can I do? Well, keep making that music.
You heard about Tribe, right? GARY: Tribe Called Quest? Nah, what? I heard they got, like, a hundred-K advance for their next joint.
A hundred thousand dollars? Damn.
Yo, we could for sure bail out Divine with that shit.
Yo, I used to battle Tip in school.
Yo, you know how much gold I can get for a hundred large? Chains, rings hey, yo, I'll make all my teeth gold.
Yo, get some fangs and shit.
Give you some love bites for real, you know what I'm saying? MOMMA GANJA: [GIGGLES.]
You stupid.
ASON: Hey, yo, where you goin'? Going home to write some jewels, what you think? BOBBY: Okay, nigga.
Tribe Called Quest gettin' a hundred, I'm gettin' a half a mil, son.
Know what I mean? - Hell, yeah, nigga.
- Peace out, man.
- Yo, he's right.
- Hell, yeah.
When the last time you wrote some raps? ASON: What? I'll write a rap right now.
Check it.
Whoa-ho-ho, here I go, watch me flow The one-man show, Ason told you so Okay.
- ASON: The BKOG, act like you know - MOMMA GANJA: Hey.
A blizzard in the winter Couldn't get this cold No, I kick ass Quick, fast Bomb this bitch-ass Then I palm his bitch-ass Niggas jump up, do what, who, what, what? I been actin' up since I left my daddy's nuts - MOMMA GANJA: [LAUGHS.]
- [CHUCKLES.]
You stupid.
Ain't nobody paying you shit for that verse.
ASON: So what, then? I'll come up with another.
If you do some real shit, though, you can get that real money.
[RECORD CRACKLING.]
[PROCOL HARUM'S "A WHITER SHADE OF PALE".]
BROOKER: We skipped the light fandango Turned cartwheels cross the floor [ORGAN MUSIC.]
- [LAUGHS.]
- Yeah, there more, man.
All right.
Yo, I thought we was on some crowd control shit, son.
Too many niggas in here.
Yo, we the only spot on the block now.
Fiends gonna riot if we don't let 'em in, know what I'm sayin'? You move all that, I'll finally have enough money to get that meeting with Cressy.
Yo, why you gotta re-up with this nigga, son? Yo, what's that? SHA: That nigga foul for what he did to Jah Son, son.
Foul? Nigga, how the fuck you know who did what? Huh? Save all that street gossip for the bitches in the street, my nigga.
You know, Jah Son might've been your boy, but if he did that shit to me, I woulda hung that nigga from a street lamp, for the whole island to see.
Yeah.
I don't know if it's the new apartment, that nice new bed I got you, or them fluffy fuckin' pillows, but you startin' to feel a little soft around the edges, my nigga.
[TENSE MUSIC.]
Maybe I should send you back to that rooftop.
Get your game face back.
[SCOFFS.]
[DOOR CREAKS OPEN, CLICKS SHUT.]
[BIRDS CHIRPING.]
[COUPLE MOANING.]
CRESSY: Mm, mm, mm [PAGER VIBRATING.]
I give it to her.
Yeah, ma.
Much luck.
[CHUCKLES.]
Yeah, man.
[COUPLE MOANING.]
I went to the funeral.
Mm.
They're talking about not doing business with us anymore.
[CHUCKLES.]
No business? With me? [COUPLE MOANING.]
That mean they ain't gwan eat.
- HAZE: They'll go back uptown.
- Let them.
Stapleton small potatoes.
The rest of the Island all mine.
HAZE: What if this starts a trend? Peoples get upset for this, that, or the other, they go back uptown too.
Then you ain't got the Island locked up anymore.
Shit look like Brooklyn.
Divided up like a jigsaw puzzle.
- [CHUCKLES.]
- You lose money.
- Fix it, then.
- Fix it? You say you have a problem, man, but you don't have no solution.
Make the people them have love for Cressy.
[TENSE MUSIC.]
Hmm? Yeah, man.
BARBRA: "Why did we start so late?" DARIUS: Is that p-p-pork? I don't eat that shit.
- [LAUGHS.]
- You what? A'ight, son.
You don't gotta eat.
BARBRA: My brother is not dead! [SCREAMS.]
- Thank you.
- SHURRIE: Mm-hmm.
You take good care of them.
Yeah, I don't know how I'ma do that now.
You could get a job.
Yo, I'm a high school dropout with felonies.
What kind of job you think I can get? I applied to Arby's once, though.
They fucking laughed, yo.
Arby's.
And I don't even fuck with roast beef.
SHURRIE: I don't know, those Beef 'n Cheddars are kind of good, though.
- [TAPES CLATTERING.]
- DARIUS: [GROANS.]
[STUTTERING.]
Sorry.
It's okay.
BEN: There wasn't a sign of life left.
Except [CRICKETS CHIRPING SOFTLY.]
By now, there were no more screams.
SHURRIE: Yo, is this your rhyme book? Why don't you make music with my brother anymore? Hey, yo, I'm out here putting in work.
It look like I got time to be messin' with all that? I don't know.
You're not putting in work now, so don't you have time? [CLEARS THROAT.]
I'ma take them outside.
Okay.
BEN: Staring at me.
[DOOR CLICKS OPEN.]
DENNIS: Y'all don't get in no trouble.
- SHURRIE: Mm, thank you.
- DENNIS: [SCOFFS LIGHTLY.]
BEN: scattered through the air like bugs.
BARBRA: We came to put a wreath on my father's grave.
Does B-B-Bobby know you're f-f-fucking his s-s-sister? [LAUGHS.]
BARBRA: And we didn't have any.
H-hey, yo, you talk too much, son.
You talk too much.
[LAUGHS.]
[ERIC B.
& RAKIM'S "IN THE GHETTO" PLAYING.]
[LOW CHATTER.]
Whoo! HAZE: Yo, Shotgun, who you supposed to be? Ronnie, Bobby, Ricky, or Mikey? Shit, none of them niggas got nothin' on what I can do.
Do your thang.
What's the word, fam? You know shit's still been touchy since Jah's funeral.
Everybody know you my man.
- Mm-hmm.
- Cradle to the grave, my G.
Womb to the tomb.
SHOTGUN: But on the real, shit's just been poppin' off over here since Stapleton dried up, feel me? Well, I'll get at you.
A'ight.
Peace.
HAZE: Peace.
[ENGINE TURNS OVER.]
RAKIM: So I Bogart and never get scarred I'm God, but it seems like I'm locked in hell Lookin' over [DOG BARKING.]
Stand on my own two feet and come equipped Any stage I'm seen on or mic I fiend on I stand alone and need nothin' to lean on Goin' for self with a long way to go Yo! Park Hill is sayin' it's dead out here.
GIRL: It ain't where you from, it's where you at HAZE: What song y'all playin'? GIRL: That new Eric B.
& Rakim, all day, man.
Hmm.
I heard they're doing a show in Union Square on Friday.
GIRL: They need to come here, but no one ever does shows out this way.
Mm.
Mm-kay.
RAKIM: With no physical form Millions of cells with one destination To reach the best part as life's creation Nine months later, a job well done [PHONE LINE RINGING.]
[PHONE TRILLS.]
- Yeah.
- HAZE: Yo.
You still got Eric B.
number? Eric yeah, man, why? We gonna put on a concert.
- CRESSY: Where? - Here.
Staten Island.
SCALISE: It's better to use rock cocaine than to sell it, according to the law.
You'll get a lighter sentence.
I never used rock cocaine.
Why'd you hire this clown? Larry recommended him.
And this is my idea.
Not his.
- I ain't no goddamn crackhead.
- Watch your mouth.
SCALISE: You're looking at mandatory 20 years, capital two.
If I can argue that it's for personal use, for you and your fiend friends and that's a big if, considering the amount you might not do any time and just go straight to rehab, if we get the right judge.
LINDA: Divine.
You listen to me.
You are going to admit to being the biggest crackhead Staten Island has ever seen, if it means you get to come home.
[MELANCHOLY MUSIC.]
[GATE BUZZES.]
[HIP-HOP MUSIC PLAYS.]
Yo.
Yo.
Yo.
Yo, battle on the Island, son.
And Eric B.
& Rakim gonna be there.
Rap battle, son.
Yo, Eric B.
& Ra and Rakim? - That's what I'm sayin'.
- Nigga Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo.
Yo, it says right here the winner of the battle gets $5,000? Yo, we could yo, we could pass 'em a demo! Yo, we could get a working deal, son! Yo.
Whoa-ho-ho, here I go, watch me flow Yo, Cressy doing this shit? ASON: It ain't about him, son, it's about the battle! BOBBY: I'ma win this shit.
And I'm gettin' Divine out.
[LOW CHATTER.]
Everything good with the lawyer? Yo, who I really need is this nigga Matlock.
Shit, he never lost a case in five seasons.
He did once, in, like, a flashback or somethin'.
I know there's gotta be something better on than this.
[TENSE MUSIC.]
You're Tarzan? SOUTH: Two hundred and forty hours, niggas.
That's how long I'm in this bitch for.
A'ight? Is Brooklyn in the house? - INMATES: All day! - SOUTH: Yeah.
Bronx, Queens, get the fuck out of here.
Oh, I can't forget about Staten Island niggas.
Park Hill.
Stapleton.
Bums.
So while I'm here, this ain't just Brooklyn House of Detentions no more.
This my house.
My TV.
My phone.
No one touches it while I'm here.
A'ight? You mean this phone? [TENSE MUSIC.]
My bad.
Wrong day.
But I'ma call my girl one day this week.
See y'all then.
That's what your mom said, baby boy.
[LOW CHATTER.]
Whatever.
Books are better for your health, huh? [MUFFLED MUSIC PLAYING.]
SHURRIE: Bobby! Bobby! Bobby! Bobby, turn that down! POWER: Yo.
Yo, I got at Haze.
Meeting with Cressy is on.
At this show right here.
A'ight? Rakim.
In Staten Island? [CROWD CHATTERING.]
[MUFFLED MUSIC PLAYING.]
Wow.
I'm surprised to see you here, nigga.
- What up, son? - Yo.
You know, I'm just tryin' to snatch that cake, know what I mean? Yo, we all tryin' to get paid, know what I'm sayin'? DENNIS: But if any of us win, it'll be for the same cause.
That's to get your brother out.
Hey, yo.
What's "Allah Justice", son? GARY: It's my name now, know what I mean? Not my slave name, Gary.
See, I got knowledge of self.
I ain't with all that eighty-five movement.
- EMCEE: Are you all ready - DENNIS: Yo, eighty-five what? - Hey, yo, yo.
- EMCEE: For Eric B.
& Rakim? The god about to rip this one.
[CHEERS AND APPLAUSE.]
[ERIC B.
& RAKIM'S "FOLLOW THE LEADER" PLAYS.]
Follow me into a solo, get in the flow And you can picture like a photo Music mix, mellow maintains to make Melodies for MCs, motivates the breaks I'm everlasting, I can go on for days and days With rhyme displays that engrave deep as X-rays I can take a phrase that's rarely heard Flip it, now it's a daily word I can get iller than 'Nam, I kill and bomb But no alarm, Rakim will remain calm Self-esteem make me super, superb, and supreme But for a microphone, still I fiend This was a tape, I wasn't supposed to break I was supposed to wait, but let's motivate I want to see you keep following and swallowing Taking and making, biting and borrowing Brothers tried and others died to get the formula But I'ma let you sweat, you still ain't warm You a step away from frozen, stiff as if you're posing Dig into my brain as the rhyme gets chosen So follow me And while you're thinking you were first Let's travel at magnificent speeds around the universe What could you say as the Earth Gets further and further away Planets as small as balls of clay Astray into the Milky Way, worlds out of sight Far as the eye can see, not even a satellite Now stop and turn around and look As you stare in the darkness, your knowledge is took So keep staring, soon you suddenly see a star You better follow it, 'cause it's the R This is a lesson if you're guessing And if you're borrowing Hurry, hurry, step right up and keep following the leader Think it's time for me to call my cherry head.
You want slot time, you gotta pay for it.
Pay you no mind, nigga.
[CHEERS AND APPLAUSE.]
HAZE: Check, one, two! We got a gang of MCs in here tonight from all over the Island competing for $5,000.
[CHEERS AND APPLAUSE.]
Courtesy of my man Cressy.
[CROWD BOOING.]
- Fuck that! - HAZE: Hold up, hold up.
Did Eric B.
& Rakim just rip this stage up? [CHEERS AND APPLAUSE.]
Also, for the rest of the night, the bar is open.
[CHEERS AND APPLAUSE.]
All of this made possible by my man Cressy.
[CHEERS AND APPLAUSE.]
Word, bless up.
You know? CROWD: [CHANTING.]
Cressy! Cressy! This nigga 7:30.
CROWD: [CHANTING.]
Cressy! Cressy! Cressy! BOBBY: So I guess it's really over now, huh? Everybody got love for Cressy again.
Nah, it ain't over.
I'll push it to the side for now.
Let the battle begin.
[CHEERS AND APPLAUSE.]
[UPBEAT PERCUSSIVE MUSIC.]
[INMATES GRUNTING.]
HAZE: First up One Man Army! I push a blade back and forth Like I'm cuttin' grass I push a blade back and forth Like I'm cuttin' grass I push a blade back and forth Like I'm cuttin' grass I treat my enemies equal, that's a double slash I put my foot so far up yo' fuckin' ass You'll be shittin' Air Force 1s for a month and a half Anybody disagree come across my path You'll find yourself in the dumpster for talkin' trash [GRUNTS.]
[CHEERS AND APPLAUSE.]
HAZE: Let's hear it for my boy Shotgun! Uh I'm your worst nightmare I'll take your life right here Do or die, ain't nobody got time for tears Catch a 25-to-life, that's light-years Catch a pencil to the eye on sight, yeah Bloodstains on my white pair, fuck do I care? I'll shit on your corpse while you lie there [CHEERS AND APPLAUSE.]
HAZE: Comin' out from Brooklyn, it's Allah Justice.
Fake goons get shank wounds Mop ringers in the day room More body bags to make today's news End result, you get beat to a bloody pulp Call me a monster, my rage like the fuckin' Hulk You get stabbed in the liver With some rusty scissors Trust me, nigga, die slow if you lucky, nigga - [BLOW LANDS.]
- DIVINE: [GRUNTS.]
[CROWD CHEERING.]
HAZE: Coming up next to the stage is D-Lover! [CHEERS AND APPLAUSE.]
Yo, Big Rick hit the strip Big gun on his hip Rich or poor, dude or chick, anybody get lit He would trip off the Henny or an E&J fifth Pop a shell, squeeze a clip Like it's funny and shit Catchin' beef on the reg, Rick ready to eat Before you cross paths You better off crossing the street He a creep, but his whole life now turned to hell When a stray shell meant for Rahmel hit Michelle [CHEERS AND APPLAUSE.]
BOBBY: Yo.
Nigga, you fuckin' cut through that beat like a hot knife through butter, nigga.
You know what I'm sayin'? Just a little somethin', somethin'.
Yo, that shit was fuckin' fire, yo.
You need to be doing this shit.
HAZE: Gettin' thick in here.
Niggas are droppin' hot shit for sure.
[CHEERS AND APPLAUSE.]
Coming up to the stage next is Bobby Dynamite.
[CHEERS AND APPLAUSE.]
Nigga said my name wrong.
[CHEERS AND APPLAUSE.]
Yo, what the fuck? HAZE: My bad, my bad.
Coming all the way from Flatbush, it's Triple Crown! - Hell, no! - RAPPER: Make some noise! Hey, these niggas' names wasn't even on the list! RAPPER: Start the beat! Yeah.
We in the house right now.
You know what I'm sayin'? Everybody put one hand in the air Put a hand in the air Yo, fuck this fuckin' shit, yo.
You have to listen Watchin' me stomp on the competition Soon as me walk in, your bride is missing Your queen disappear, me a card magician I hate to cut you off like a unpaid bill - But me have to interrupt - RAPPER: Chill It's a soul food like a Sunday meal - Don't come to - ALL: Brooklyn! If the sauce ain't real ALL: Like that, like this, like this, like that Put a fist in the air if you feeling the hype track So who's a hot rat, me chill as a ice pack Man, I know, but are you finished? No, me comin' right back Yo, Brooklyn finest call me a highness Reppin' in Staten where the girls them flyest - Them the flyest - The girls them flyest They won't deny us, come on and try us Walk with the lions, join our alliance As we kick science, Incas and the Mayans Dance to the beat, be tappin' your feet RAPPER: We got two Es But a champ's got three-peat ALL: Beep, beep, get out the way - RAPPER: We need an all-star - ALL: When we come out to play We came to party, sip on Bacardi Leave with a shorty and go get lordy When I say hip, y'all say hop - Hip - ALL: Hop - RAPPER: Hip - ALL: Hop RAPPER: When I say rip, y'all say shop - Rip - ALL: Shop - RAPPER: Rip - ALL: Shop RAPPER: Just put your hands in the air Everybody just put your hands in the air Peace.
- [CHEERS AND APPLAUSE.]
- [FEEDBACK DRONES.]
Buh, buh, buh, buh! Yeah, man! Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! It's over, man! [CHEERS AND APPLAUSE.]
CROWD MEMBER: Whoo! One, two, one, two.
[FEEDBACK DRONING.]
It's not over yet.
We still have one more MC to go.
Introducing MC Dynamite.
[CHEERS AND APPLAUSE.]
[CHEERS AND APPLAUSE.]
Yo, yo, it's your boy.
MC Dynamite.
[CHEERS AND APPLAUSE.]
About to have some fun.
Hey, DJ.
Drop that beat.
Yeah.
CROWD MEMBER: All right, B! Yeah.
Uh.
Yeah.
- My mind go - [MUSIC SLOWS DOWN, STOPS.]
Yo.
[CROWD BOOING.]
Hey, what the fuck? What? HAZE: Yo, fam.
Get 'em next time, all right? - You good.
- What? - Get 'em next time.
You good.
- I'm good? Yeah, get 'em next time.
Come on.
Hey, everybody.
Hey.
Everybody, uh yo, follow me, all right? All right.
Clap your hands, everybody.
Everybody, clap your hands, yeah.
Clap your hands, everybody.
Everybody, clap your hands, yeah.
Uh.
My mind go back to an early mood When I was a sperm cell in the fallopian tube In the midst of a state of triple darkness Going through a struggle that doesn't exist Avoiding every danger that came in my path As I watched every sperm cell get ripped in half One in a million completes the job And for the other sperm cells The womb is a graveyard See, in the womb, I was like a foreign object I was like a new nigga walking through the projects So here I am in the danger zone My head and my tail, my 23 chromosomes But I thought it couldn't be that bad - 'Cause my dad - [SCOFFS.]
BOBBY: He coulda used a body bag And if not, then my tomb woulda been In the trash can of my mom's bedroom Well, damn But they was in love And they was new to it So here I go on a mission to the uterus A million motherfuckers tried to race ahead But I am the one who fertilized the egg [CROWD BOOING.]
CROWD MEMBER: Boo! [BOOING GROWS LOUDER.]
CROWD MEMBER: [IMITATES BUZZER.]
Next! CROWD MEMBER: No! Man, fuck you, bitch-ass CO.
I don't want this slop.
Think I am, a fucking animal? DIVINE: If you don't eat, you won't have the strength to last in here.
How long they gonna keep us in this bitch, man? [CHUCKLES.]
Probably two weeks.
It gon' feel like two months, though.
Hey, how how come you helpin' me out? I ain't from Stapleton.
DIVINE: We from Staten.
We may be from separate hoods when we on the rock, but when we off the rock, we gotta stick together.
Yo, we the smallest borough.
So how I see it, it's Staten Island against the world.
They robbed us.
One of us shoulda won that shit, son.
Yeah, me.
Your shit was hot, but my shit was lava.
An assistant to this manager gave me his number.
Hey, yo, "assistant to this manager"? Whatever, my shit had all the birds chirping.
No matter what, none of our verses won.
Definitely not that a cappella sperm shit.
[LAUGHTER.]
You thought this was science class? BOBBY: Man, look, whatever.
No matter what we would have done, none of our verses would have won.
Yeah, that's 'cause the nigga Cressy had that shit set up for them Brooklyn bumbaclots to win anyway.
Nah, yo.
It's 'cause all them niggas went up there as a unit.
We all went up there as individuals.
Reppin' ourselves and not our borough.
You feel me? Well, I'm from Brooklyn, fam, get what I mean? You know what the fuck I mean, nigga.
Yo, let's get up out of here, son.
Get back to this, know what I'm sayin'? - Peace, peace.
- A'ight, peace.
Word.
WOMAN: Yeah, I know that's right.
HAZE: Excuse me, ladies.
POWER: Yo, puttin' this shit together for the Island was smart.
I was ridin' with y'all regardless, my nigga.
Know that.
HAZE: Cressy appreciates that.
He said you and him deal directly, from now on.
Word up.
That's what I'm talkin' about.
- You're welcome.
- [CHUCKLES.]
Yo.
- BOBBY: Yo.
- Yo, your shit was mad deep.
That's the type of shit that be on yo' mind? Hey, you shoulda signed up.
You got one of the illest flows in Staten Island.
Yeah, that's what you think, son.
All right.
Hey, yo, you remember that, uh [CHUCKLES.]
That, uh Word on the street, there's a party to do That's true, so I put on my old Gucci suit Had the fuckin' silk that matched Right and exact So observe my swerve as I attack with BOTH: Full contact SHA: Yeah, son.
[PAGER BEEPING.]
A'ight, son.
[FUNKY SOUL MUSIC.]
GARY AND ASON: We rock all, all, all in together now Gettin' paid, gettin' fresh for the weather now All, all, all in together now Gettin' paid, gettin' fresh for the weather now January, February, March, April May, June, we all in tune - All, all - GARY: Yeah BOTH: All in together now Gettin' paid, gettin' fresh for the weather now All, all, all in together now Gettin' paid, gettin' fresh for the weather now Whoo-hoo-hoo-hoo! Hoo-hoo! - [LAUGHS.]
- Hell, yeah.
Well, I was comin' down the block one hot afternoon CHORUS: Comin' down the block one hot afternoon GARY: On a scale of one to ten I saw a girl about a nine A flavor of new depth, but only she was divine Walkin' down my block, said the block Monroe I said peace to her, then the bitch said hello I said hell is low, it's the lowest you can go ASON: It's 32 degrees below zero GARY: So I started to rain on this young girl's brain Causin' her a great deal of physical pain She said, tip, tap, step off the broad, stat No diamonds or gold, you cannot get her back Then I said, so what, as I grabbed her butt You know she smiled for a while But her mouth kept shut CHORUS: All, all, all in together now Gettin' paid, gettin' fresh for the weather now PERSON: Get on the line.
DIVINE: The kilos have come to the Island.
DENNIS: That's 18K, thereabouts.
We new members or what? Get these niggas some dessert.
BOBBY: I don't think we should be leaving all of our supply in one place.
What the fuck you waiting for? [DRAMATIC MUSIC.]
[GLASS SHATTERS.]
- ASON: [COUGHING.]
- Yo, anybody grab the stash? The money? Nothing? BOBBY: My music.
SHA: B.
O.
B.
Where's my gun? That shit ain't here.
Nigga, Dennis got that shit.
What? You supposed to be my ace.
[DOOR CLICKS SHUT.]
[TIRES SCREECH.]
ASON: Oh, shit, here come Jah Son.
- Bobby D, what's up? - BOBBY: Yo, what up, Jah? JAH SON: Yo, that nigga Haze.
There go Cressy too.
Hey, how much you think them chains cost? Don't worry about it.
- Ah! - Run your jewels, nigga! Now, you gon' run your jewels, unless you wanna lose your family jewels, motherfucker.
Hurry up.
[LAUGHS.]
Ooh, those shits is ill, son! These joints is one of a kind.
[REWINDING TAPE SQUEALS.]
[TENSE PERCUSSIVE MUSIC.]
Ras clot - [GUNSHOTS BOOM.]
- [CROWD SCREAMS.]
[DRAMATIC MUSIC.]
[PANTING.]
- [REVVING MOTOR RECEDES.]
- [HEARTBEAT THUMPING.]
JAH SON: I'm feelin' like motherfuckin' Scarface in this bitch, nigga.
[HEARTBEAT THUMPING.]
Visit your mom, nigga.
I know she fucking misses you.
She told me that shit last night.
Leave the gun.
Take the cannoli.
[HEARTBEAT THUMPING.]
[HEARTBEAT THUMPING.]
ANNOUNCER: Game over.
Try again.
[HEARTBEAT THUMPING.]
[ELECTRONIC PULSING.]
- DJ: Wu-Tang again? - CALLER: Aw, yeah.
Again and again.
[PAGER BEEPING.]
- You Jah Son? - JAH SON: Hey, yo! - COP: Freeze! - JAH: Chill, chill, chill! - Shit! - Shit, nigga.
I'm sending assistance! [TIRES SCREECH.]
[POLICE SIREN WAILING.]
JAH SON: What the fuck? [BRIGHT WARBLING, LO-FI BLEEPING.]
DENNIS: Yo, Jah, you're lucky.
JAH SON: Shit, we both been lucky.
Game might get you too, especially the way me and you been playin' it.
DENNIS: Hey, yo, what else we supposed to do? We born into this shit.
I mean, we ain't really got much of a choice, know what I mean? JAH SON: Yo, this your old rhyme book? - [ELECTRONIC BLEEPING.]
- Nigga, why you stop? I always thought you was dope.
- Man, whatever.
- JAH SON: Nah, yo, for real! [BRIGHT WARBLING, LO-FI BLEEPING.]
He a creep, but his whole life now turned to hell When the stray shell sent for Rahmel hit Michelle JAH: Whoo-hoo! I'ma need me a copy of that shit.
[ELECTRONIC PINGING, BRIGHT PULSING.]
[BRIGHT WARBLING, LO-FI BLEEPING.]
Yo, DJ Nasty Nick, I got this tape, you heard? Want you to play this shit on your show, tonight.
I don't think so.
Doesn't work that way.
JAH SON: Oh, nah? Ah, tell me how it does work, Mr.
DJ.
Yo, I told you I'd get you on the radio, son! Like it's funny and shit Catchin' beef on the reg, Rick ready Radio, son! So are we gonna make a record or what, D-Lover? I don't know.
Depends on what my manager says.
JAH SON: [LAUGHS.]
What the fuck you think I'm gonna say, nigga? [BRIGHT WHOOSHING, LO-FI BLEEPING.]
[ELECTRONIC PLINKING.]
Yo, look at this shit, son.
JAH SON: Hard work pays off.
Yo, this is that real Iron Man, Tony Stark shit, son, know what I mean? Yo, n-niggas ain't niggas ain't even up with 'em yet, son.
We made it.
But nah, you gotta come out to LA, though.
Yeah, you too.
JAH: Yo, looking good, Billy Ray.
Feeling good, Louis.
JAH SON: You see, D-Lover? This what happens when you play the game right.
ANNOUNCER: You win! - [GUNSHOTS BOOM.]
- [CROWD SCREAMS.]
You lose.
[DESCENDING LO-FI ARPEGGIO.]
[STATIC CRACKLING.]
[WIND HOWLING.]
[SOMBER ORGAN MUSIC.]
REV.
WILLIAMS: Now, we will hear a few words from the mother.
Then I will share a few words from the good book.
Then we will head to the dining hall for some food, amen.
PERSON: Miss.
REV.
WILLIAMS: And get you all on your way.
Amen.
CROWD: [MURMURING.]
Amen.
ELISE: No! Please, no! No, no, don't take my baby.
Don't take my baby! No, please! Oh, please, God, no! REV.
WILLIAMS: Since the mother is not able to speak, and the father is not present ELISE: Oh, I can't.
[SOBBING.]
REV.
WILLIAMS: I will go on with my sermon, unless there is anyone who would love to share.
I have a few words.
REV.
WILLIAMS: Okay, sister.
LINDA: Here we all are again, sitting amongst each other [SIGHS.]
'cause another mother's son has been taken from us, over material items that can be replaced.
Well, Jah Son's life can't be replaced.
- ATTENDEE: No.
- ATTENDEE: Nope.
[CROWD MURMURING.]
[CHUCKLES.]
[TENDER PIANO MUSIC.]
That boy made everyone smile.
He was so funny and full of life.
Maybe he could've been the next Eddie Murphy.
Lord knows his outfits could light up a room.
[LAUGHTER.]
The pain of labor and giving birth, it's an indescribable pain.
But imagine the pain a mother feels when her child is killed in cold blood.
We mothers don't imagine our babies as thugs, gangsters, murderers.
We see them as our children.
And I know your so-called street cred may want you to get vengeance.
But vengeance is mine, so sayeth the Lord.
CROWD: [SCATTERED.]
Amen.
LINDA: And the soul that pulls the trigger, I reckon, will suffer in his own hell.
- ATTENDEE: Amen.
- ATTENDEE: That's right.
[LIGHT APPLAUSE.]
LINDA: So mothers, daughters, sons, friends, neighbors For God's sake, you've got to stop all the shooting in our communities.
ATTENDEE: That's right.
This is our home.
ATTENDEE: Amen! These are our babies.
ATTENDEE: Amen.
[LIGHT APPLAUSE.]
[HIP-HOP MUSIC.]
[MEN GRUNTING.]
[BLADE RESOUNDS.]
[GUN COCKS.]
[DICE THUD.]
[BLADE RESOUNDS.]
I miss you, son.
Sorry I couldn't say good-bye.
GARY: Peace, Sha Rader.
What it be like, my dude? Long time, no see.
SHA: Capital G.
Mm.
You came all the way from Brooklyn? GARY: Come on, son.
For Jah, I would've came from across the world.
Know what I mean? SHA: Shit crazy.
Nah, you know what's crazy? Is how .
5 grams of lead can decimate a 160-pound body, dawg.
Yo, Aunt Linda was speaking the truth up there.
They didn't have to do Jah Son like that.
SHA: True indeed.
Shit ain't right.
Word up.
Hey, yo, Bobby, cuz, come here.
That last joint y'all did, "Schooling Brothers", was making noise all last summer.
Even in Brooklyn.
Tapes was gettin' worn out.
I had mad copies, niggas just stole 'em all.
Know what I mean? Word.
Hey, I can make you another dub.
It's not about another dub, Bobby.
I'm talkin' about another tape.
When are y'all gonna start making more music together? - I don't even know.
- We been busy.
GARY: You and my cousin right here are the next EPMD.
Yeah, whatever's clever.
I got some B.
I.
to attend to.
Peace.
Peace.
Can everyone please make their way to the dining hall? We have another service to prepare for.
[DOOR CLICKS OPEN.]
[SOMBER MUSIC.]
BOBBY: Yo, D.
REV.
WILLIAMS: Hey, son.
Why don't you just go on and get yourself something to eat? Momma Sa Restaurant generously donated a feast for us.
DENNIS: Momma Sa? [TENSE MUSIC.]
REV.
WILLIAMS: Son, please.
[LOW CHATTER.]
[BOTH LAUGH.]
What's up, man? What you want? Red beans, rice? What's up? What up, nigga? [CROWD GASPING, MURMURING.]
- Hey, hey, hey, hey! - Help us out with that! Hey, yo, fuck this yo, nah, fuck this shit! Yo, tell Cressy to take this fuckin' fish and ackee and shove it up his fuckin' ass, nigga.
- Yo, yo, yo.
- Fuck! DENNIS: Fuck is wrong with you? Why you comin' at me like that? You know Jah was my man too! Yo, it ain't have to go down like that, son! Dennis! DENNIS: Hey, yo, tell that knotty-head nigga that his business in Stapleton is dead, son! We'd rather starve than to fuck with y'all niggas.
[SPITS.]
Fuck! Shit! Fuck! Bobby.
Shurrie.
Help me clean up this mess.
Baby, go on home, and you clean yourself up.
Thanks, Ms.
Diggs.
LINDA: Whoever didn't get a plate, just give us a moment.
We'll get you fed.
There was nothing I could've done.
Jah robbed the nigga.
The fuck you think was gonna happen? Yo, my Gs, we'll get past this.
We got a lot of biz to handle out here, you know what I'm saying? Nah.
I don't think I know what you're saying.
E'rybody loved Jah Son.
Everybody.
Yo, come on.
[LOW CHATTER.]
Hey, Ms.
Diggs.
I-I wanted to apologize to you and Ms.
Moore for what happened back there.
I was completely out of line.
It's a painful day, Dennis.
We understand.
But you make sure you go and apologize to Ms.
Moore yourself, though.
Yes, ma'am.
How're your brothers? They a'ight.
LINDA: And your mother? Same old, same old.
Mm.
Bet your boys are hungry.
Shurrie will make them a plate.
DENNIS: Nah, we we good.
LINDA: Nah, wait, no, you you already got one quarrel today.
You don't get another.
I'ma fix you one too.
So busy blowing off steam, you didn't get a chance to eat.
Thank you.
[DOOR CLICKS SHUT.]
[TENDER PIANO MUSIC.]
[BOTH SIGH.]
ASON: Yo! Yo, you pouring the whole bottle! Yo, Jah wouldn't want you wasting all this on him.
[MOMMA GANJA LAUGHS.]
He'd want this to go where it belong, son.
MOMMA GANJA: You foul.
GARY: 'Sup, cuz? 'Sup with that 'Vine situation? Shit, you know, still stuck in Brooklyn House.
All that money's going towards that lawyer, so You and D just burnt that bridge with Haze, right? We couldn't put out for another key anyway.
Lost all our shit in the fire.
Them niggas would never front us.
So fuck it.
Hey, I did start applying for jobs, though.
A nigga hasn't heard nothin' yet, but what else can I do? Well, keep making that music.
You heard about Tribe, right? GARY: Tribe Called Quest? Nah, what? I heard they got, like, a hundred-K advance for their next joint.
A hundred thousand dollars? Damn.
Yo, we could for sure bail out Divine with that shit.
Yo, I used to battle Tip in school.
Yo, you know how much gold I can get for a hundred large? Chains, rings hey, yo, I'll make all my teeth gold.
Yo, get some fangs and shit.
Give you some love bites for real, you know what I'm saying? MOMMA GANJA: [GIGGLES.]
You stupid.
ASON: Hey, yo, where you goin'? Going home to write some jewels, what you think? BOBBY: Okay, nigga.
Tribe Called Quest gettin' a hundred, I'm gettin' a half a mil, son.
Know what I mean? - Hell, yeah, nigga.
- Peace out, man.
- Yo, he's right.
- Hell, yeah.
When the last time you wrote some raps? ASON: What? I'll write a rap right now.
Check it.
Whoa-ho-ho, here I go, watch me flow The one-man show, Ason told you so Okay.
- ASON: The BKOG, act like you know - MOMMA GANJA: Hey.
A blizzard in the winter Couldn't get this cold No, I kick ass Quick, fast Bomb this bitch-ass Then I palm his bitch-ass Niggas jump up, do what, who, what, what? I been actin' up since I left my daddy's nuts - MOMMA GANJA: [LAUGHS.]
- [CHUCKLES.]
You stupid.
Ain't nobody paying you shit for that verse.
ASON: So what, then? I'll come up with another.
If you do some real shit, though, you can get that real money.
[RECORD CRACKLING.]
[PROCOL HARUM'S "A WHITER SHADE OF PALE".]
BROOKER: We skipped the light fandango Turned cartwheels cross the floor [ORGAN MUSIC.]
- [LAUGHS.]
- Yeah, there more, man.
All right.
Yo, I thought we was on some crowd control shit, son.
Too many niggas in here.
Yo, we the only spot on the block now.
Fiends gonna riot if we don't let 'em in, know what I'm sayin'? You move all that, I'll finally have enough money to get that meeting with Cressy.
Yo, why you gotta re-up with this nigga, son? Yo, what's that? SHA: That nigga foul for what he did to Jah Son, son.
Foul? Nigga, how the fuck you know who did what? Huh? Save all that street gossip for the bitches in the street, my nigga.
You know, Jah Son might've been your boy, but if he did that shit to me, I woulda hung that nigga from a street lamp, for the whole island to see.
Yeah.
I don't know if it's the new apartment, that nice new bed I got you, or them fluffy fuckin' pillows, but you startin' to feel a little soft around the edges, my nigga.
[TENSE MUSIC.]
Maybe I should send you back to that rooftop.
Get your game face back.
[SCOFFS.]
[DOOR CREAKS OPEN, CLICKS SHUT.]
[BIRDS CHIRPING.]
[COUPLE MOANING.]
CRESSY: Mm, mm, mm [PAGER VIBRATING.]
I give it to her.
Yeah, ma.
Much luck.
[CHUCKLES.]
Yeah, man.
[COUPLE MOANING.]
I went to the funeral.
Mm.
They're talking about not doing business with us anymore.
[CHUCKLES.]
No business? With me? [COUPLE MOANING.]
That mean they ain't gwan eat.
- HAZE: They'll go back uptown.
- Let them.
Stapleton small potatoes.
The rest of the Island all mine.
HAZE: What if this starts a trend? Peoples get upset for this, that, or the other, they go back uptown too.
Then you ain't got the Island locked up anymore.
Shit look like Brooklyn.
Divided up like a jigsaw puzzle.
- [CHUCKLES.]
- You lose money.
- Fix it, then.
- Fix it? You say you have a problem, man, but you don't have no solution.
Make the people them have love for Cressy.
[TENSE MUSIC.]
Hmm? Yeah, man.
BARBRA: "Why did we start so late?" DARIUS: Is that p-p-pork? I don't eat that shit.
- [LAUGHS.]
- You what? A'ight, son.
You don't gotta eat.
BARBRA: My brother is not dead! [SCREAMS.]
- Thank you.
- SHURRIE: Mm-hmm.
You take good care of them.
Yeah, I don't know how I'ma do that now.
You could get a job.
Yo, I'm a high school dropout with felonies.
What kind of job you think I can get? I applied to Arby's once, though.
They fucking laughed, yo.
Arby's.
And I don't even fuck with roast beef.
SHURRIE: I don't know, those Beef 'n Cheddars are kind of good, though.
- [TAPES CLATTERING.]
- DARIUS: [GROANS.]
[STUTTERING.]
Sorry.
It's okay.
BEN: There wasn't a sign of life left.
Except [CRICKETS CHIRPING SOFTLY.]
By now, there were no more screams.
SHURRIE: Yo, is this your rhyme book? Why don't you make music with my brother anymore? Hey, yo, I'm out here putting in work.
It look like I got time to be messin' with all that? I don't know.
You're not putting in work now, so don't you have time? [CLEARS THROAT.]
I'ma take them outside.
Okay.
BEN: Staring at me.
[DOOR CLICKS OPEN.]
DENNIS: Y'all don't get in no trouble.
- SHURRIE: Mm, thank you.
- DENNIS: [SCOFFS LIGHTLY.]
BEN: scattered through the air like bugs.
BARBRA: We came to put a wreath on my father's grave.
Does B-B-Bobby know you're f-f-fucking his s-s-sister? [LAUGHS.]
BARBRA: And we didn't have any.
H-hey, yo, you talk too much, son.
You talk too much.
[LAUGHS.]
[ERIC B.
& RAKIM'S "IN THE GHETTO" PLAYING.]
[LOW CHATTER.]
Whoo! HAZE: Yo, Shotgun, who you supposed to be? Ronnie, Bobby, Ricky, or Mikey? Shit, none of them niggas got nothin' on what I can do.
Do your thang.
What's the word, fam? You know shit's still been touchy since Jah's funeral.
Everybody know you my man.
- Mm-hmm.
- Cradle to the grave, my G.
Womb to the tomb.
SHOTGUN: But on the real, shit's just been poppin' off over here since Stapleton dried up, feel me? Well, I'll get at you.
A'ight.
Peace.
HAZE: Peace.
[ENGINE TURNS OVER.]
RAKIM: So I Bogart and never get scarred I'm God, but it seems like I'm locked in hell Lookin' over [DOG BARKING.]
Stand on my own two feet and come equipped Any stage I'm seen on or mic I fiend on I stand alone and need nothin' to lean on Goin' for self with a long way to go Yo! Park Hill is sayin' it's dead out here.
GIRL: It ain't where you from, it's where you at HAZE: What song y'all playin'? GIRL: That new Eric B.
& Rakim, all day, man.
Hmm.
I heard they're doing a show in Union Square on Friday.
GIRL: They need to come here, but no one ever does shows out this way.
Mm.
Mm-kay.
RAKIM: With no physical form Millions of cells with one destination To reach the best part as life's creation Nine months later, a job well done [PHONE LINE RINGING.]
[PHONE TRILLS.]
- Yeah.
- HAZE: Yo.
You still got Eric B.
number? Eric yeah, man, why? We gonna put on a concert.
- CRESSY: Where? - Here.
Staten Island.
SCALISE: It's better to use rock cocaine than to sell it, according to the law.
You'll get a lighter sentence.
I never used rock cocaine.
Why'd you hire this clown? Larry recommended him.
And this is my idea.
Not his.
- I ain't no goddamn crackhead.
- Watch your mouth.
SCALISE: You're looking at mandatory 20 years, capital two.
If I can argue that it's for personal use, for you and your fiend friends and that's a big if, considering the amount you might not do any time and just go straight to rehab, if we get the right judge.
LINDA: Divine.
You listen to me.
You are going to admit to being the biggest crackhead Staten Island has ever seen, if it means you get to come home.
[MELANCHOLY MUSIC.]
[GATE BUZZES.]
[HIP-HOP MUSIC PLAYS.]
Yo.
Yo.
Yo.
Yo, battle on the Island, son.
And Eric B.
& Rakim gonna be there.
Rap battle, son.
Yo, Eric B.
& Ra and Rakim? - That's what I'm sayin'.
- Nigga Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo.
Yo, it says right here the winner of the battle gets $5,000? Yo, we could yo, we could pass 'em a demo! Yo, we could get a working deal, son! Yo.
Whoa-ho-ho, here I go, watch me flow Yo, Cressy doing this shit? ASON: It ain't about him, son, it's about the battle! BOBBY: I'ma win this shit.
And I'm gettin' Divine out.
[LOW CHATTER.]
Everything good with the lawyer? Yo, who I really need is this nigga Matlock.
Shit, he never lost a case in five seasons.
He did once, in, like, a flashback or somethin'.
I know there's gotta be something better on than this.
[TENSE MUSIC.]
You're Tarzan? SOUTH: Two hundred and forty hours, niggas.
That's how long I'm in this bitch for.
A'ight? Is Brooklyn in the house? - INMATES: All day! - SOUTH: Yeah.
Bronx, Queens, get the fuck out of here.
Oh, I can't forget about Staten Island niggas.
Park Hill.
Stapleton.
Bums.
So while I'm here, this ain't just Brooklyn House of Detentions no more.
This my house.
My TV.
My phone.
No one touches it while I'm here.
A'ight? You mean this phone? [TENSE MUSIC.]
My bad.
Wrong day.
But I'ma call my girl one day this week.
See y'all then.
That's what your mom said, baby boy.
[LOW CHATTER.]
Whatever.
Books are better for your health, huh? [MUFFLED MUSIC PLAYING.]
SHURRIE: Bobby! Bobby! Bobby! Bobby, turn that down! POWER: Yo.
Yo, I got at Haze.
Meeting with Cressy is on.
At this show right here.
A'ight? Rakim.
In Staten Island? [CROWD CHATTERING.]
[MUFFLED MUSIC PLAYING.]
Wow.
I'm surprised to see you here, nigga.
- What up, son? - Yo.
You know, I'm just tryin' to snatch that cake, know what I mean? Yo, we all tryin' to get paid, know what I'm sayin'? DENNIS: But if any of us win, it'll be for the same cause.
That's to get your brother out.
Hey, yo.
What's "Allah Justice", son? GARY: It's my name now, know what I mean? Not my slave name, Gary.
See, I got knowledge of self.
I ain't with all that eighty-five movement.
- EMCEE: Are you all ready - DENNIS: Yo, eighty-five what? - Hey, yo, yo.
- EMCEE: For Eric B.
& Rakim? The god about to rip this one.
[CHEERS AND APPLAUSE.]
[ERIC B.
& RAKIM'S "FOLLOW THE LEADER" PLAYS.]
Follow me into a solo, get in the flow And you can picture like a photo Music mix, mellow maintains to make Melodies for MCs, motivates the breaks I'm everlasting, I can go on for days and days With rhyme displays that engrave deep as X-rays I can take a phrase that's rarely heard Flip it, now it's a daily word I can get iller than 'Nam, I kill and bomb But no alarm, Rakim will remain calm Self-esteem make me super, superb, and supreme But for a microphone, still I fiend This was a tape, I wasn't supposed to break I was supposed to wait, but let's motivate I want to see you keep following and swallowing Taking and making, biting and borrowing Brothers tried and others died to get the formula But I'ma let you sweat, you still ain't warm You a step away from frozen, stiff as if you're posing Dig into my brain as the rhyme gets chosen So follow me And while you're thinking you were first Let's travel at magnificent speeds around the universe What could you say as the Earth Gets further and further away Planets as small as balls of clay Astray into the Milky Way, worlds out of sight Far as the eye can see, not even a satellite Now stop and turn around and look As you stare in the darkness, your knowledge is took So keep staring, soon you suddenly see a star You better follow it, 'cause it's the R This is a lesson if you're guessing And if you're borrowing Hurry, hurry, step right up and keep following the leader Think it's time for me to call my cherry head.
You want slot time, you gotta pay for it.
Pay you no mind, nigga.
[CHEERS AND APPLAUSE.]
HAZE: Check, one, two! We got a gang of MCs in here tonight from all over the Island competing for $5,000.
[CHEERS AND APPLAUSE.]
Courtesy of my man Cressy.
[CROWD BOOING.]
- Fuck that! - HAZE: Hold up, hold up.
Did Eric B.
& Rakim just rip this stage up? [CHEERS AND APPLAUSE.]
Also, for the rest of the night, the bar is open.
[CHEERS AND APPLAUSE.]
All of this made possible by my man Cressy.
[CHEERS AND APPLAUSE.]
Word, bless up.
You know? CROWD: [CHANTING.]
Cressy! Cressy! This nigga 7:30.
CROWD: [CHANTING.]
Cressy! Cressy! Cressy! BOBBY: So I guess it's really over now, huh? Everybody got love for Cressy again.
Nah, it ain't over.
I'll push it to the side for now.
Let the battle begin.
[CHEERS AND APPLAUSE.]
[UPBEAT PERCUSSIVE MUSIC.]
[INMATES GRUNTING.]
HAZE: First up One Man Army! I push a blade back and forth Like I'm cuttin' grass I push a blade back and forth Like I'm cuttin' grass I push a blade back and forth Like I'm cuttin' grass I treat my enemies equal, that's a double slash I put my foot so far up yo' fuckin' ass You'll be shittin' Air Force 1s for a month and a half Anybody disagree come across my path You'll find yourself in the dumpster for talkin' trash [GRUNTS.]
[CHEERS AND APPLAUSE.]
HAZE: Let's hear it for my boy Shotgun! Uh I'm your worst nightmare I'll take your life right here Do or die, ain't nobody got time for tears Catch a 25-to-life, that's light-years Catch a pencil to the eye on sight, yeah Bloodstains on my white pair, fuck do I care? I'll shit on your corpse while you lie there [CHEERS AND APPLAUSE.]
HAZE: Comin' out from Brooklyn, it's Allah Justice.
Fake goons get shank wounds Mop ringers in the day room More body bags to make today's news End result, you get beat to a bloody pulp Call me a monster, my rage like the fuckin' Hulk You get stabbed in the liver With some rusty scissors Trust me, nigga, die slow if you lucky, nigga - [BLOW LANDS.]
- DIVINE: [GRUNTS.]
[CROWD CHEERING.]
HAZE: Coming up next to the stage is D-Lover! [CHEERS AND APPLAUSE.]
Yo, Big Rick hit the strip Big gun on his hip Rich or poor, dude or chick, anybody get lit He would trip off the Henny or an E&J fifth Pop a shell, squeeze a clip Like it's funny and shit Catchin' beef on the reg, Rick ready to eat Before you cross paths You better off crossing the street He a creep, but his whole life now turned to hell When a stray shell meant for Rahmel hit Michelle [CHEERS AND APPLAUSE.]
BOBBY: Yo.
Nigga, you fuckin' cut through that beat like a hot knife through butter, nigga.
You know what I'm sayin'? Just a little somethin', somethin'.
Yo, that shit was fuckin' fire, yo.
You need to be doing this shit.
HAZE: Gettin' thick in here.
Niggas are droppin' hot shit for sure.
[CHEERS AND APPLAUSE.]
Coming up to the stage next is Bobby Dynamite.
[CHEERS AND APPLAUSE.]
Nigga said my name wrong.
[CHEERS AND APPLAUSE.]
Yo, what the fuck? HAZE: My bad, my bad.
Coming all the way from Flatbush, it's Triple Crown! - Hell, no! - RAPPER: Make some noise! Hey, these niggas' names wasn't even on the list! RAPPER: Start the beat! Yeah.
We in the house right now.
You know what I'm sayin'? Everybody put one hand in the air Put a hand in the air Yo, fuck this fuckin' shit, yo.
You have to listen Watchin' me stomp on the competition Soon as me walk in, your bride is missing Your queen disappear, me a card magician I hate to cut you off like a unpaid bill - But me have to interrupt - RAPPER: Chill It's a soul food like a Sunday meal - Don't come to - ALL: Brooklyn! If the sauce ain't real ALL: Like that, like this, like this, like that Put a fist in the air if you feeling the hype track So who's a hot rat, me chill as a ice pack Man, I know, but are you finished? No, me comin' right back Yo, Brooklyn finest call me a highness Reppin' in Staten where the girls them flyest - Them the flyest - The girls them flyest They won't deny us, come on and try us Walk with the lions, join our alliance As we kick science, Incas and the Mayans Dance to the beat, be tappin' your feet RAPPER: We got two Es But a champ's got three-peat ALL: Beep, beep, get out the way - RAPPER: We need an all-star - ALL: When we come out to play We came to party, sip on Bacardi Leave with a shorty and go get lordy When I say hip, y'all say hop - Hip - ALL: Hop - RAPPER: Hip - ALL: Hop RAPPER: When I say rip, y'all say shop - Rip - ALL: Shop - RAPPER: Rip - ALL: Shop RAPPER: Just put your hands in the air Everybody just put your hands in the air Peace.
- [CHEERS AND APPLAUSE.]
- [FEEDBACK DRONES.]
Buh, buh, buh, buh! Yeah, man! Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! It's over, man! [CHEERS AND APPLAUSE.]
CROWD MEMBER: Whoo! One, two, one, two.
[FEEDBACK DRONING.]
It's not over yet.
We still have one more MC to go.
Introducing MC Dynamite.
[CHEERS AND APPLAUSE.]
[CHEERS AND APPLAUSE.]
Yo, yo, it's your boy.
MC Dynamite.
[CHEERS AND APPLAUSE.]
About to have some fun.
Hey, DJ.
Drop that beat.
Yeah.
CROWD MEMBER: All right, B! Yeah.
Uh.
Yeah.
- My mind go - [MUSIC SLOWS DOWN, STOPS.]
Yo.
[CROWD BOOING.]
Hey, what the fuck? What? HAZE: Yo, fam.
Get 'em next time, all right? - You good.
- What? - Get 'em next time.
You good.
- I'm good? Yeah, get 'em next time.
Come on.
Hey, everybody.
Hey.
Everybody, uh yo, follow me, all right? All right.
Clap your hands, everybody.
Everybody, clap your hands, yeah.
Clap your hands, everybody.
Everybody, clap your hands, yeah.
Uh.
My mind go back to an early mood When I was a sperm cell in the fallopian tube In the midst of a state of triple darkness Going through a struggle that doesn't exist Avoiding every danger that came in my path As I watched every sperm cell get ripped in half One in a million completes the job And for the other sperm cells The womb is a graveyard See, in the womb, I was like a foreign object I was like a new nigga walking through the projects So here I am in the danger zone My head and my tail, my 23 chromosomes But I thought it couldn't be that bad - 'Cause my dad - [SCOFFS.]
BOBBY: He coulda used a body bag And if not, then my tomb woulda been In the trash can of my mom's bedroom Well, damn But they was in love And they was new to it So here I go on a mission to the uterus A million motherfuckers tried to race ahead But I am the one who fertilized the egg [CROWD BOOING.]
CROWD MEMBER: Boo! [BOOING GROWS LOUDER.]
CROWD MEMBER: [IMITATES BUZZER.]
Next! CROWD MEMBER: No! Man, fuck you, bitch-ass CO.
I don't want this slop.
Think I am, a fucking animal? DIVINE: If you don't eat, you won't have the strength to last in here.
How long they gonna keep us in this bitch, man? [CHUCKLES.]
Probably two weeks.
It gon' feel like two months, though.
Hey, how how come you helpin' me out? I ain't from Stapleton.
DIVINE: We from Staten.
We may be from separate hoods when we on the rock, but when we off the rock, we gotta stick together.
Yo, we the smallest borough.
So how I see it, it's Staten Island against the world.
They robbed us.
One of us shoulda won that shit, son.
Yeah, me.
Your shit was hot, but my shit was lava.
An assistant to this manager gave me his number.
Hey, yo, "assistant to this manager"? Whatever, my shit had all the birds chirping.
No matter what, none of our verses won.
Definitely not that a cappella sperm shit.
[LAUGHTER.]
You thought this was science class? BOBBY: Man, look, whatever.
No matter what we would have done, none of our verses would have won.
Yeah, that's 'cause the nigga Cressy had that shit set up for them Brooklyn bumbaclots to win anyway.
Nah, yo.
It's 'cause all them niggas went up there as a unit.
We all went up there as individuals.
Reppin' ourselves and not our borough.
You feel me? Well, I'm from Brooklyn, fam, get what I mean? You know what the fuck I mean, nigga.
Yo, let's get up out of here, son.
Get back to this, know what I'm sayin'? - Peace, peace.
- A'ight, peace.
Word.
WOMAN: Yeah, I know that's right.
HAZE: Excuse me, ladies.
POWER: Yo, puttin' this shit together for the Island was smart.
I was ridin' with y'all regardless, my nigga.
Know that.
HAZE: Cressy appreciates that.
He said you and him deal directly, from now on.
Word up.
That's what I'm talkin' about.
- You're welcome.
- [CHUCKLES.]
Yo.
- BOBBY: Yo.
- Yo, your shit was mad deep.
That's the type of shit that be on yo' mind? Hey, you shoulda signed up.
You got one of the illest flows in Staten Island.
Yeah, that's what you think, son.
All right.
Hey, yo, you remember that, uh [CHUCKLES.]
That, uh Word on the street, there's a party to do That's true, so I put on my old Gucci suit Had the fuckin' silk that matched Right and exact So observe my swerve as I attack with BOTH: Full contact SHA: Yeah, son.
[PAGER BEEPING.]
A'ight, son.
[FUNKY SOUL MUSIC.]
GARY AND ASON: We rock all, all, all in together now Gettin' paid, gettin' fresh for the weather now All, all, all in together now Gettin' paid, gettin' fresh for the weather now January, February, March, April May, June, we all in tune - All, all - GARY: Yeah BOTH: All in together now Gettin' paid, gettin' fresh for the weather now All, all, all in together now Gettin' paid, gettin' fresh for the weather now Whoo-hoo-hoo-hoo! Hoo-hoo! - [LAUGHS.]
- Hell, yeah.
Well, I was comin' down the block one hot afternoon CHORUS: Comin' down the block one hot afternoon GARY: On a scale of one to ten I saw a girl about a nine A flavor of new depth, but only she was divine Walkin' down my block, said the block Monroe I said peace to her, then the bitch said hello I said hell is low, it's the lowest you can go ASON: It's 32 degrees below zero GARY: So I started to rain on this young girl's brain Causin' her a great deal of physical pain She said, tip, tap, step off the broad, stat No diamonds or gold, you cannot get her back Then I said, so what, as I grabbed her butt You know she smiled for a while But her mouth kept shut CHORUS: All, all, all in together now Gettin' paid, gettin' fresh for the weather now PERSON: Get on the line.