Clockers Page #6

I wish to buy

what you got.

Maybe we don't

have what you want.

Hold on. Who are you,

the security house n*gger?

They rent you by the hour?

We're just trying to help...

F*** that, man!

'Cause I'm black,

that automatically mean

I'm gonna steal something,

right?

N*gger, I came in here to buy

a birthday gift for my mom!

But you ain't sh*t,

and neither is this bullshit

kung fu Chinese b*tch store!

F*** you, motherf***er!

You think I'm playing?

I'm gonna bring my steel and pump

bullets in your motherfucking ass.

Think I'm playing?

You disrespectin'

me on my mother's birthday!

N*gger.

I G's up twice a day, man.

How much you make in a month?

See this? See this? It's a

hundred dollar bill, right?

Use it in

your kid's birthday.

I'm gonna come back here.

I'm gonna kill your ass.

Thank you.

I'm gonna kill your ass.

What did he want?

Nothin'.

Did that kid ever come back?

No.

Hey. What's up, Mr. Brown?

Hey. Mr. Dunham.

Ty, that's my landlord, Mr. Brown.

Say what's up.

How you doing, sir?

Pleased to meet you,

young man.

This is Tyrone.

This is my little brother.

Anybody bother you, any of these

heads out here, you let me know.

I got something for the

crack-heads my damn self.

Young man, you do like your big brother.

Leave those drugs alone.

I got some food on

the stove. See ya later.

All right. Peace.

Go up the steps. Hurry up.

Shorty, what you doin'?

Don't touch that.

Buggin'. You know anything

about what you're touchin'?

Little buster.

Lionel Trains, right? They was

built in the early 1900s.

But them cheap shits, they only

ran on dry cell batteries.

But after World War ll,

when more folks

started getting

electricity in their

cribs and sh*t like that,

boom,

they made the new ones.

Yeah, phat, right?

Yeah.

Profit's all in the cut.

Don't never forget that.

Shorty, if I ever see

or even hear about you

messin' with this stuff right here,

man, sniff in' or pipin' up...

Come here, man.

The word to my mother.

Put a cap in your ass.

This ain't no TV movie

violence bullshit neither.

This stuff out here is real.

Real bullets hurt and

real guns kills you dead.

See this right here?

This a .25 automatic.

I keeps this for all

them ill n*ggers out there.

Like that one dude, Errol.

Now that brother's crazy.

He will blast your ass,

just won't give a f***.

The messed-up thing about it is

that they never find the body.

Just the blood

stains on the ground.

If he ever tried to creep up

on me, I'm gonna gat his ass.

And you best be ready

to do the same sh*t, too.

Aw, don't think that

just 'cause you're 12,

small and sh*t,

that he won't smoke you.

Just last year, he caught

himself a 10-year-old.

I knows you

probably thinking about

what Mr. Brown said

earlier and all that.

But, chill, don't even

sweat that sh*t, man.

He's old and poor. He don't

know what time it is.

This is how you get

that money right here.

How do you think I got that

phat-ass train set right there?

From pumpin' this

white sh*t right here.

Any fly sh*t you want in

this world, it costs money.

And this is how

you get it. Hustling.

Don't never forget

that sh*t neither.

Yo, Shorty, you're smart, right?

Answer me this.

Boss buys him a key

for $22,000, right?

Cuts it up to 3,500,

$10 bottles.

Boss takes 60%, $17,000

profit, leaving up $7,000,

50% of which is mine.

How much for me?

Thirty-five hundred.

My man, Shorty. Keep hittin'

them books, all right?

If I ever catch you playing hooky,

I'll put a cap in your ass.

My name is M-O

and don't you forget it

Takin' out your boys and you

don't know how I did it

Pickin' off your crew

one by one

Don't step in my way

cos I just might have a gun

May be loaded

Just might not be

Cos I'm a menace to society

My name not Sticky Fingers

but I still get hip

So back the f*** up and just

Chill

Cos steppin' on me

you'll be a-writin' your will

I'm like an Energizer

can't never die

Ba, ba, ba, ba, nice try

Ha, ha, ha, I saw you

run in the building

Throwing up my guns

to the ceiling

Ba, ba, ba,

here I go again

Ba, ba, ba,

cops are comin' in

Run into the back, man

I'm fast up the staircase

I got no time to waste

Nobody seen my face,

so I leave without a trace

Make the drops over on

Smith Street from now on.

Yeah, all right. Oh,

yeah, crooked-ass Jo-Jo.

He said he got some

weight for you to buy.

Forget

that motherf***er.

F***in' f*ggot. He tapped

me up for $500, too.

Errol told me you talked

to the Homicide cop.

How'd that go?

It was aight.

"Aight" or all right?

It was "aight," all right?

I ever tell you about the

first time I killed somebody?

Nah.

Errol Barnes made me do it,

'cause it was three guys

burned us on some bogus dope.

Errol's already killed the other two.

We got the third guy.

Be cool, man. Chill,

motherf***er, chill.

Ain't you sorry

you f***ed with us?

I ain't f***ed with you.

You're lucky we don't

throw your ass

off this roof like them

crackers down South.

I didn't do sh*t, man.

What the f***

is my name?

Errol, man.

You're goddamn right.

Motherf***er crying like a baby boy.

Tears, snot flying, sh*t.

Errol turned to me. Says,

"You got to cap him,

or I'm gonna cap you."

Man, come on, that sh*t

ain't necessary, man.

I ain't gonna cap that boy. He's

scared like a motherf***er.

You think I'm

playin' with you?

Open your mouth.

Open your mouth.

Open it!

You gonna take this piece,

and you're gonna put that

motherf***er's brains out.

You understand me?

I got it.

Go to it.

I said you shouldn't

have did that sh*t, man.

Come on, please! Please!

On three, Rodney.

I can't stop my

hand from shakin'.

Don't you dare

chump out on me.

I can't stop my

hand from shakin', man.

Cap him!

All right!

Don't you wish

you'd done us right'?

Hey, hey, hey. Don't you ever,

ever f*** with me, boy.

Do you know me now?

I'm a bad man.

Errol couldn't have me runnin'

around here knowin' what he did

without somethin' personal

hangin' over my head, too.

Personal, Strike.

Otherwise, I might give him up

someday, you understand me?

Strike.

That's the reason

why I needed you

to be bloody on

this Darryl thing.

You hear me?

Errol Barnes, boy.

Motherf***er had a sawed-off

shotgun right in my mug, Strike.

He's my best friend, too.

What's the matter with you?

You okay? Sh*t!

You gotta take care of yourself out here.

Wipe that off.

You Okay?

You ain't seen my doctor,

have you?

Huh?

Nah.

Strike, why I got to tell you things

two and three and four time, huh?

Why you don't

want to listen to me?

You Okay?

Sh*t.

To be honest, I don't really give

a f*** because you lied to me.

Lied about what?

You said Darryl had a drug

problem, a crack-head.

I asked around.

The guy was clean.

I was just speculatin'.

That's some

nasty-ass speculatin'.

Damn. You're comin' at me

with mad questions.

I'm just tryin' to answer them shits.

Then you said

you never met 'im.

Maybe just by eye,

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