Bad Boys 2 Script - Dialogue Transcript

Voila! Finally, the Bad Boys 2 script is here for all you quotes spouting fans of the Will Smith and Martin Lawrence movie.  This script is a transcript that was painstakingly transcribed using the screenplay and/or viewings of Bad Boys 2. I know, I know, I still need to get the cast names in there and I'll be eternally tweaking it, so if you have any corrections, feel free to drop me a line. You won't hurt my feelings. Honest.

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Bad Boys 2 Script


            Ja, all this is under control.

            A hundred and fifty million dollars and my dope is on the way.

            Today is gonna be a good day.

            We are  84  degrees north,  6  degrees west.

            The cargo's being dropped.


            - Do you want to see his gun? - Yeah.

            Bang. Bang.

            Sorry, Johnny.

            Fucking bitches.

            Infrared's got a live one on the water.

            Air Force Stallion C-7    to Coast Guard.

            We've got a fast-moving contact heading  - -  toward South Florida.

            Captain, Air Force Stallion has a contact at   - -  closing fast.

            This is Coast Guard cutter Valiant. Request to know your intentions.

            Vessel off our port bow, this is U.S. Coast Guard.

            Intercept is   - -  speed     knots.

            Make it so, chief. Scramble the helo.

            Vessel off our port bow.

            This is U.S. Coast Guard.

            Request to know your intentions at this time.


            Valiant, Valiant.

            This is Coast Guard  - - - .

            Negative contact with target. Over.

            Captain, we've lost target.

            Here's your delivery and payment.

            Is it done?

            - Cargo is on Dixie  . - Okay.

            All right, TNT, for the millionth time, listen up.

            Since  -    we've gone hi-tech over water. Dope runners have gone low.

            Our source says the biggest X shipment on record arrives tonight...

            ...and we want to know who's behind it.

            Hopefully in a few hours we'll have our answer.

            We'll hit from three directions:

            We'll go in with a water team, vehicle assault and we got guys on foot.

            We cannot make a move until our UCs have ID'd the drugs and called us in.

            No call, we back away. And these guys we're going after...

            ...they got a lot of firepower and they hate the law. So eyes open out there.

            Bravo's on the move.

            Heads up. Here comes the drop.

            Fuck. My lens is flaring.

            I can't see shit.

            Brothers! Gather around!


            - Why didn't you say there was a rally? - Who's looking?

            - Take that shit. I'm out of here. - Shit.

            - White power! - White power!

            - White power! - White power!

            Blue power, motherfuckers. Miami PD.

            Aw, damn. It's the Negroes.

            Casper, drop the bag. Alpha leader, bring them in.

            Bad boys, bad boys What you gonna do?

            What you gonna do When we come for you?

            - Dude, you gotta learn the words. - We usually only do the chorus.

            Alpha leader, hit it. Br...

            Repeat your transmission.

            Alpha leader to Bravo Four, please continue relay.

            Where's backup?

            - Alpha leader, bring them in. Hit it. - Mike, I'm only getting static.

            It's all static. The radios are fucked.

            - Something funny? Something funny? - Mike, where are they?

            Got you, nigger.

             - Looks like we got us a situation here. - You won't shoot.

              You got a gun to his head, so you think I won't splatter you all over?

              That's what I think.

              My partner came here tonight prepared to die.

              Hell... Hell, no!

              Incinerating trash like you. Ready to die, right, Marcus?

              - The fuck I want to do that for? - Scared, ain't you, boy?

              A: Put the gun down, tell me who brings this shit in...

              ...and maybe I'll just pop one in your shoulder.

              Or B: Keep acting all Brody and I'll put one in your chest.

              Or C: You know, take the time to talk a minute.

              You know, de-escalate the situation.

              See, that's my partner's new spiritual bullshit.

              Me? I actually prefer shooting motherfuckers.

              A lot of movement going on.

              Can't see the UCs.

              - I think something's going down. - Don't move yet.

              Mike, the man has a gun to my head.

              He'll put it down if a hollow point's in his eye!

              Your partner's a cocky nigger.

              - Damn. Now, was that necessary, sir? - See?

              He can't just be a cop? He got to be a nigga too?

              I'll hot this fool.

              - Calm down. - Calm down? I'm calm.

              I'm calm! Hey! Whoa! Whoa!

              I am way too unstable for that bullshit.

              Stop all the goddamned movement! Everybody stop moving!

              We can't let you all go, but this shit'll get worked out in court.

              We got our rights.

              Exercise your right to shut the fuck up.

              I'm all right. I'll give you a warning. It's the best I can do for all of youse!

              Okay? He's crazy.

              - You got   seconds to drop your gun. - He has anger issue problems!

              - One. - He goes to bed early for this shit!

              Just to wake up to pop one in a motherfucker!

              - Two! - Mike, no!


              Rock 'n' roll! Let's go!

              Kill them cops!


              Go! Go! Go! Go! Come on, go!

              - Get down! - Drop the...!

              - I didn't do shit! - Get your hands up.

              I didn't do it!

              The radios were fucked up. Get some medics over here. You guys okay?

              - Yeah, we're fine. - What you mean, "we"?

              Motherfucker shot me in the ass, man.

              - Who shot you in the ass? - Who? That "who" would be you.

              - Me? I shot you? - Yeah.

              I mean, I was shooting. Yeah, I did a lot of shooting.

              But I ain't saying I shot you in the ass.

              I ain't saying I didn't shoot you...

              ...but, damn! Somebody shot you in the ass.

              Tell me about it.

              - Yo, man, how's it feel? - It's hot, man.

              I can smell my ass burning.

              Mike, you should give it a little kiss so it'll feel better.

              Pretend like we're not even here.

              Hey, isn't Ricky Martin having a concert? Get the fuck on.

              - You always gotta go racial, man. - It's sad, man.

              I think it's cool. It hit the meat. It ain't nowhere near the hole.

              Two lousy bags?

              What about the biggest shipment of ecstasy to come out of Amsterdam?

              Let me worry about my snitch, all right?

              It's a lot of cop work for nothing!

              Take your ass home somewhere.

              Tonight la policia jacked my mules.

              Who can tell me how those jackals knew where to bite Johnny Tapia?

              Speak up, cousins.

              You're lucky they did not find my drugs on Dixie  .

              Change the boat schedule.

              We can't. We got a shipment Thursday.

              Change it after. Just keep them guessing.

              You know, unlike you, my daddy didn't leave me no trust fund.

              I got real-world shit to deal with, Mike.

              I'm not in it for the thrills.

              Same old shit, different day.

              All right, yes, damn. I shot you, all right?

              But you'd be seeing nothing at all if I hadn't made my move.

              I don't know why you acting so angry.

              - You're misinformed. I'm not angry. - No, you're very angry.

              No, I'm not angry.

              You are angry. It's okay.

              I'm not angry. Except when you keep repeating "you're angry."

              That shit's fucking annoying.

              Like a fucking gnat at a barbecue.

              Just bugging the fuck out of me.

              Good. I want you to say:

              "I'm angry. It's okay. I'll process my anger.

              I love myself.


              I don't know what the fuck you mean.

              Yes, you do know what the fuck I mean.

              You're the one that needs therapy.

              - I did my therapy. - When?

              Capt. Howard made me do it after I shot them people at the airport.



              Officer Mike.

              - Papi. That's "daddy," right? - Yeah.


              Mike, you go to therapy to get your issues worked out...

              ...not bang your therapist.

              - See, now you just talking nasty. - I gotta survive.

              I gotta start loving me for me.

              That sound like that group thing.

              Maybe I did the group thing once or twice.


              - And whoosah. - Whoosah.

              A bunch of men hugging and kissing, that's some cult shit.


              Ignore him, doc, he's blowing this out of proportion.

              My ass is what's out of proportion, Mike, okay? I got a big chunk missing.

              It's actually a small chunk.

              This tension you bringing into this relationship...

              ...won't be healthy in the long run.

              Maybe there ain't gonna be no long run.


              He's seeing a shrink. I mean...

              - Icepick, Lowrey. - Hey, brother.

              Two bags? You embarrassed me in front of my people.

              Wait, brother. No, no, no, brother. Wait, wait, wait, wait.

              Whatever. You better pray to whoever it is you pray to...

              ...because you got     hours to find that X before I find you.

              The cops hit my mule.

              Well, Mr. Tapia, I don't know where the heat is coming from.

              It's a delicate situation for both of us, isn't it?

              - I'm telling you, I've checked them. - Alex, look. A guy's OD'ing.

              I'm sorry, I gotta hang up.

              Some fucking punk thinks he can die in my club.

              Ecstasy fucks them up.

              - Get him out of here, Josef. - We'll dump him around the block.

              Dump him.

              Auntie Syd, it must be so cool.

              Young, single, living in New York.

              Probably hook up with a lot of cute guys.

              - Just like Sex and the City. - Theresa, cancel the damn cable.

              So, Auntie Syd, you're a cop too, huh?

              Sort of. I work for the DEA, but I just push a lot of papers.

              - Nothing exciting. - Well, you keep pushing papers.

              Don't have to worry about my little sister fighting crime.


              Possibly getting hurt.

              James. Get my screwdriver. Damn bolts.

              Ignore him. He's being mean because he got injured.

              - Are you okay? - His wound is fine. It's...

              ...other things that were affected.

              - Theresa! - What?

              You... It's just nerve damage, that's all.

              Y'all not gonna spoil it.

              I'll talk to you about it.

              It's a donut.

              It's a medical thing.

              I got it from a maternity store. You know, pregnant women use it.

              They can put one cheek here. It take pressure off the other cheek.

              - For you, dog. - Thoughtful.

              Look, man...

              ...last night there was something different in your eyes.

              You know, Mike, I had an epiphany. You know?

              - I realized you're an enigma. - Yeah, I could see that.

              God sent you here to test me. But guess what?

              You not gonna break me, Mike. No.


              Is that Syd?

              - That's Syd. - Now's not a good time.

              Mike, listen, now's not a good time.

              Hit me, hit me, hit me.

              No throwing balls in the house.


              - What's up, Theresa? - Hey.

              Aw, they ain't tell me it was a luau.

              Syd, hold up. Hold up. Hold on.

              Behave yourself, girl. Hey, hold up. Hold up. Hold up.

              Oh, look at you. Look at you.

              Oh, okay. Okay. I see now.

              You didn't tell Marcus about New York.

              - He knows about New York. - About us? You told him about us?

              No, he knows about New York.

              You know, it's a nice city and that I dropped a witness off last month.

              Mike is so sweet.

              - So sweet he make your teeth rot. - So have you told him yet?

              Baby, soon, okay? Real soon.

              He needs to know you're transferring and won't be his partner anymore.

              Theresa, timing is everything.

              Marcus is not very happy with me right now.

              No, no, Syd, I'm telling you, that is Scarface limping around in there.

              We need to give that boy a few minutes to let his butt heal up good.

              We like each other. What's the big deal?

              I'm just gonna go tell him right now, because this is dumb.

              Hold up. Hold up. I'm gonna tell him.

              It ain't like I won't tell him. How am I not tell him?

              - When? - I need a minute.

              Straight up. We're not vibing right now. I just need a minute.

              Mike, he's my brother, okay? Don't be scared. Toughen up, chief.

              Whoa. Hey. Hey, I ain't say I was scared.

              Just... There's something wrong with your brother.

              So, Mike, I understand you were in New York last month.

              Yeah, I was...

              - Remember I did the thing? - No.

              You remember?

              The two of you should've gotten together. That would've been nice.

              I never told you Mike was in New York.

              Well, you know what, Mike?

              Syd, she's gonna be in town, what, another week?

              Why don't you show her around? That'd be nice.

              That would be so great.

              Yeah. Yeah, I could... Well, me and...

              Marcus, you want to show her some stuff?

              Yeah, because I'm in town on vacation.

              I'm staying at the most amazing hotel.

              The view, the pool. Oh, my God.

              We got a pool right here.

              That ain't exactly a pool, man.

              That's like a big-ass puddle wrapped in blue plastic.

              Didn't they have any good pools when you bought this one?

              Megan, that pool cost $    .

              Okay, so how much do the good pools cost?

              - It's all right, baby. - It is kind of whack, huh?

              I gotta go meet somebody. It was nice seeing you again, Mike.

              Nice... Good to see you.

              Where you going?

              - Bye, sweetie. - Bye.

              I thought you were on vacation.

              So glad you could join us, Mike.

              I'm telling you, spending time like this make a partnership strong.

              Mike, can I see you by my stupid pool?

              What's the deal, baby?

              Why you gotta always come over here and try to take over, Mike?

              - What are you talking about? - This is my family, man. Okay?

              - What are you talking about? - My place of peace.

              Are you taking medication?

              You taking medicine for the thing, right?

              - What'd I do? - Forget it. Just forget it.

              - What'd I do? - Mason. Go fetch.

              Oh, shit!

              Now, that shit is funny.

              That's some funny shit.

              Oh, man, hold up.

              Yo, Lowrey, you hot.

              Thirty-nine hundred dollars. Thirty-nine hundred.

              You better pray to God you right this time. Yo, dry off, sweetheart.

              Icepick said the Haitian Zoepounds about to do a rip. Let's move.

              All right, guys, smarten up. Talk to me.

              Eyes on, agents. Good luck.

              This is     .

              They're backing in.

              I got a good look.

              - We got a good eyeball. - All right, we're in.

              What's up?

              You come highly recommended out of New York.

              You did some good jobs for our Russian crew up there.

              How old are you?

              Old enough.

              Come on. If you want to move this stuff you gotta do it quick.

              Wow, nice getup. You can start to run these through.

              I'd like to see how your machine works.

              Ooh, that sounded dirty.

              "I would like to see how your machine works, baby."

              I wouldn't be so crude.

              I mean, I'm more of a refined kind of a human being.

              You follow ballet?

              Three of my cousins are dancing with the Bolshoi Theatre in Moscow.

              I like hippie-hop too.

              I gave you     .

              You gave me     .

              - I gave you     . -     .

              -     . - Count it.

              If you want to fuck with me again, find yourself another chump.


              - How much? - Three.

              Look at this. Money everywhere. Clean it up.

              Okay, we want to change a little over $  million, all right?

              How many jobs did you do with my friends up there in New York?

              Quite a few.

              How you behave with me has consequences for a lot of people.

              You found me, not the other way around.

              You need me to change small bills to large ones and deliver to a third party.

              I bet he'd like his money in a timely fashion.

              Delivery's late, it's your ass, not mine.

              Here's       in     s for your       in    s.

              Third party takes his million in these five briefcases here.

              - I hope I'm not losing you, chief. - I hate math.

              So for your $  million that we shrunk for you...

     get   million in clean money back.

              Less our percentage: $      .

              - I'll be delivering these to your dealer. - Alexei.

              - What? - We're giving too fucking much away.

              We take all the risk.

              And our suppliers take too much of our profit.

              Yeah, we'll call the general, renegotiate.

              He's a businessman, we're businessmen.

              Yeah, call him.

              You call.

              Agents, we're on the move to the money drop.


              Hey, man, the truck's leaving. We're going to follow it.

              Don't lose that truck.

              Follow that truck. Follow that truck.

              Yep, they saddling up. Look like Icepick came through.

              Wonder whose shit they about to rip now?

              Falcon One, do you see her?

              Stand by.

              I don't want to get spotted, take a burn.

              Zoepound a bunch of pirates, man. Steal anything.

              Black Suburban at     o'clock.

              Oh, come on, baby. Park it at the top.

              Roberto, she's coming to you.

              I got her.

              This is Falcon One, guys. I got her coming up.

              Heads up, guys. I got an orange muscle car.

              Looks to be three black male occupants.

              It's out of our field of vision. Bring it up.

              All right, be aware, we got three bogeys unidentified.

              Guys, we got three bogeys. They're splitting up. They're moving.

              Be aware. They're approaching... Shit. Shit.

              - Fuck, it's a hit! - Shit.

              Agent down. Agent down.

              Roberto, fucking follow them!

              - I'm on it! I'm on it! - Shit!

              Stay here!

              Son of a bitch!

              It's Syd!

              Move! Move!

              Man, what is your sister into?

              Sidewalk! Sidewalk!

              Move! Move!


              - Shit! - I need backup on Canal, now!

              You just get ready to shoot.


              Stop the car!

              Man, your badge?! He has a gun! Shoot him!

              Mike, she's in trouble, man.

              Move! Get out of the way!

              I think I done just got mad.

              - Gun! Gun! Gun! - Hold on.

              Now show them your badge!

              - This shit is crazy. - I know, right?

              Move! Move!

              Get the world down here!


              Go! Go!

              Get out!

              You, drive!


              Go, go, go, Mike! Punch that shit! Punch it!

              Kill the fucker!


              Move! Move!

              - Don't lose her, Mike! - This is what I do!

              Shit! Shit.

              Definitely shoot that motherfucker that just...

              Oh, man, my headlight.

              Shoot back! Shoot back! Shoot! Shoot!

              What the...?! What are you doing, man?

              - That's my bad. - Shoot outside!

              Pay attention to what you're doing.

              These dudes is off the chain!

              Jesus! Fuck!

              - This is some sick shit! - Yep, it's about to get sicker.

              Watch out! Watch out!

              Oh, sh...!

              - Oh, they are not about to do that. - Hell, yes, they are!


              - You see that?! - They throwing cars! How can I not?!

              - I'm just trying to help, okay?! - You know what'd be fucking helpful?

              Just shut the fuck up and let me drive! Let's try that!

              Hey, come on, man, with the screaming shit!

              I'm concentrating on dodging these fuckers.

              Just relax.

              - That was a flip! - That motherfucker flipped!

              - That one puckered up my butthole. - Almost fucking crushed my head.

              The boat!

              I lost them. Yeah, I've got your cargo to the backup drop point.

              Attention all units, suspects still at large.

              There she is.

              What the fuck is going on, Syd?

              Some desk you're driving.

              Get over here, I'm undercover. And please call off your dogs.

              I got DEA watching my back, so don't blow my case.

              - We saved your life. - And I appreciate that.

              What I don't appreciate is you two following me here...

              ...nearly burning a case that took five months to set up.

              So now we lie to each other? Is that what we do?

              - What do you want me to do? - All right.

              - Fuck that, Mike, she's wrong. - Calm down. Relax.

              Syd, are there drugs in that truck?

              - There's cash. - Where's it going?

              - I can't tell you that. - Why not?

              Because I have a career and if I want to keep it, I have rules to follow.

              What's that mean?

              My orders are, under no circumstances share information with Miami PD...

              ...because they got too many leaks. - Oh. I'm Miami PD now?

              You done forgot I'm your big brother, huh?

              You know what, Syd, that shit you did was reckless...

     was stupid and it was dangerous. Okay?

              I'm telling Mommy. Okay? I'm definitely leaking that shit.

              Hey, Marcus...

              Syd, come on, he got a point.

              Your brother loves you.

              Not to mention a little thing called professional courtesy.

              You bouncing in somebody's yard, you should let them know about it.

              First time using your gun?

              Hey, you handled yourself very well.

              Too bad your partner didn't notice.


              Think you get off that easy? You been working this for five months?

              How come you ain't tell me in New York?

              - What would you have said? - I would've...

              I'd have let you know this job is rugged, you know.

              It's dangerous. And if something happen to you I might...

              Exactly why I didn't say anything.

              Somebody's stealing your money.

              The drop's done. I gotta go.


              We gotta close this case before it get her killed.

              Yeah, no doubt.

              You ready to go back to the station, get our asses whupped?

              I think we gonna be all right.


              What's your job description?

              No, you two.

              What is your job description?

              I'll tell you.


              Tactical Narcotics Team.

              Keyword: "tactical."

              "Displaying finesse and subtlety in achieving a goal!"

              Tell me, gentlemen...

              ...what was subtle about your work today?

              Twenty-two cars...

              ...and a boat, totaled?

              How did you sink a boat?

              We didn't sink it.


              All right, the positive. Thank God no cops died.

              The negative: I got a police commissioner so far up my ass...

              ...if he spits it's coming out of my mouth.

              But I know that there's always two sides to a story.

              So, what's yours?

              Well, I was at a family barbecue.

              We got a tip that the Zoepounders...

              ...were gonna do a hit on cash or drugs from this big-time X-Man.

              That's what they call a ecstasy dealer on the streets.

              Marcus, I know what they call them.

              That's why I'm captain. It's cool.

              So you got the drugs.

              No drugs. Oh, okay. All right. How about the money?

              - No money. - Nope.

              Then who is this X-Man?

              Captain, I was at a family barbecue. So l...

              We don't know, but we are going to find out.

              Well, then all that...

              ...was for nothing? - We didn't do all of that.

              If you look close... Watch. Hold up. Let me s...

              There's DEA all over. Wait, the... Wait, hold up.

              The DEA? Without consulting me?!

              That's a DEA car right there.

              Christ! Fuck!

              Cap. No. Remember your pressure points.

              Do my... My exercises.

              - Holler at your boy. - Whoosah.

              Twenty-one thousand? What?!

              Oh, kiss my black ass.

              It was the dashboard.

              - You know what? - Better.

              Yeah, you'll get your money.

              Somebody's on they way with your money.

              Is it possible we could discuss potential reimbursement...

              We don't cover personal property. That's why we drive police cars.

              So where do we go from here?

              Zoepounders knew exactly when to hit the drop, where to hit the drop...

     we figure they know where the cash is.

              We find the cash, we find the X-Man.

              Hey, I'm through playing games, all right? I have three cops critical.

              I got kids dying on my streets from souped-up X.

              I do not want these animals taking over my city.

              Do you understand?

              So I want you guys to do whatever you do, whatever it takes, but do it now.

              It's not good, boss.

              Oh, my God.

              Fucking ratones eating my fucking money.

              Carlos, this is a stupid fucking problem to have.

              But it is a problem nonetheless.

              Rat fuckers.

              Rat fuckers.

              Boss, it ended up crazy.

              This black chica working for the Russians was a maniac lunatic.

              She saved your money.

              She wasted some Haitians and got the load to the drop.

              Also, Roberto saw these two crazy gangbanger homeys.

              - Oh, shit. - Yeah. Chasing and shooting.

              Old days, did I have this problem? No.

              Just fly the drugs in and ship the money out.

              Now American security's so goddamned tight over the water...

              ...and in the sky...

              ...that the rats eat my money before I can get it to Cuba.

              - You see? - Fiery crash...

              I can't even get my money across town without making the news.

              Hey, man. Man.

              Tell me...

              ...should I be worried?

              - No, boss. - Shut the fuck up.

              People is trying to jack my loads here in Miami.

              I own this fucking town. You see?

              This is my town.

              Oh, my God. Pink.

              Pink, niņa, pink. Pink. No powder blue.

              Pink is prettier.

              But the lady at the store said I look like a model.

              You're lucky your mother was my mother's cousins.

              Don't pay attention to Roberto.

              Besides, models are filthy creatures.

              You look more like an angel.

              - What do you think, Carlos? - Of course.

              - Roberto, what do you think? - It's fucking beautiful.

              Talk polite in front of my little bonbon...

              ...or I'm gonna chop your balls off.

              For real, I'm straight with all your spiritual enlightenment and that shit.

              But I need to know if a crackhead rolls to me with a.  you'll cook that fool.

              No question about it. Shoot him in the leg.

              Come on with that leg shit.

              - Everybody deserves a little dignity. - What about my dignity?

              Your crackhead will be missing a kneecap. I'll be in a body bag.

              - So sad. - What's so sad?

              Your untreated control issues.

              It's not your fault.

              What in the hell is that supposed to mean?

              Your mama probably refused you her tit when you were a baby.

              You grew up a malnourished high-school softie.

              Got your gun, little tight T-shirt...

              ...and became a overcompensating tough guy.

              That is the last time you will ever refer to my mother's titties.

              I don't even want them up in your head.

              You know, I said all that, Mike, and all you heard was "titties."

              Man, you can't keep suppressing my spiritual growth, Mike.

              You need to suppress my mother's titties out of your psychoanalysis.

              You just remember one thing, my friend. I may not always be here.

              What's up, Icepick?

              Jesus is the way, my brothers. Step inside.

              You just went number one on Uncle Mike's shit list.

              - We got two lousy bags, man. - My brothers.

              Haitian blond with dreads. Where is he?

              Blondie Dread?

              He's very expensive.

              You and you have to do something for me.

              Oh, you trying to get gangster on me like that?

              - Yeah, he went gangster. - So we should probably...

              - So we want to do the... You got them? - Yeah, sure.

              Me and my partner, we're on the Miami PD tandem dance team.

              We got a routine. We won all the local talent shows.

              We thinking about going national.

              You want to show him some of the routine?

              Warm it up. Don't hurt nothing.

              Yo, yo, watch this. Watch this.

              This the shit right here. This is the shit.

              - What you doing to my shop?! - Watch this spin.


              - What are you doing?! - Oh, give me some.

              You're ruining my shop. Stop!

              - Do the dance thing. - I'm gonna bring the house down.

              Stop! Stop!

              He lives in a pink house eight blocks from here on Carl Street.


              - Police! Get down. - Police!

              Who that? Who in my house?!

              - I'm the devil, who's asking?! - The devil is not welcome here!

              You got to call yourself the devil in his house?! Shit!

              You're in my house!

              This is all your fault!

              - You're in my country, though. - Fuck you, how's that?

              - I'm gonna kill you, motherfucker! - Your country, my ass!

              - Fuck you. - Fuck me? Fuck you!

              You no problem!

              Mike, do you have to be so combative?


              You calling me a bitch?!

              Do or die, man!

              A bullet in the head'll really mess up your extensions.

              Take your bullet and eat that shit, man.

              How about that?

              What the fuck?

              Sir, we just want to talk.

              You want to talk?! Well, go ahead. Go ahead.

              We're not lmmigration.

              They can't hear you because they're still shooting at you.

              Fucking Haitians in a fucking little-ass room...

              ...with fucking guns. Shit!

              Got to make it home to my babies. Damn, now.

              Motherfucker! You killed my brother!

              That's a bitch!

              Shoot them. Fucking shoot them.

              They shot me. They got me, man. Yo!

              Got you.

              Oh, shit! Motherfucker!

              They killed the boy!

              They kill me!

              They're killing everybody!


              My eyes!

              I'm gonna kill you, motherfucker!

              Come. Come kill me, motherfucker.

              Come. You don't take me alive.

              You got three seconds to drop your weapon!

              I got a present for you!

              - A nice present for you! - One!

              - Two! - I'm gonna kill you.

              Don't shoot. Don't shoot, man. Don't kill me.

              - Bullets and all... Excuse me. - You all right, man?

              Apologize to that man. Apologize to that man.

              Apologize! Apologize.

              Hey, listen, I owe you...

              It's just that, you know, you was disrespect...

              But that don't mean it give me the right, though. It don't.

              Excuse me. Whoosah. Whoosah.

              Whoosah, motherfucker!

              See, the interesting thing is he's the one of us that's not pissed off.

              - I don't know nothing. - I didn't ask you no question yet!

              - I don't know nothing. - Lying already?

              - No, get... - How'd you know about the drop?

              - I don't know nothing! - Stop lying!

              Do you know anything?

              I'm gonna be nice about it. Do you know anything?

              Let's ask some other suspects.

              - Hey, look, man, fuck it. - Let's try this. Let's talk to his homeys.

              Hey, look here, man.

              Can you tell me who was driving the black Suburban?

              Oh, he don't know nothing.

              His brains is under the end table.

              He can't tell us shit, Mike.

              - He's all fucked up. - What's your point?

              Dead suspects can't say shit.

              It seems like live suspects don't say shit either, so I'll hot this dude here.

              - Save us the paperwork. - I don't know nothing!

              I don't do motherfucking surveillance, man. He do surveillance.

              He don't let nobody touch his camera.

              - What's on that camera? - Trigger Mike strikes again.

              Hi, welcome to Phat's. How can I help you?

              - Miami PD. - Whoa. Cops. I love that show.

              - We need to see what's on this video. - Absolutely.

              You got a little bullet hole in there. You guys tell me about it?

              Guess not. We'll put this in our central floor model.

              It has kick-ass bass. You like hip-hop? I love it.

              We freestyle in the break room. If you guys ever want to kick it, we'll flow.

              We're gonna set you up on the wide-screen. Correct ratio.

              There you go.

              "Spanish Palms Mortuary."

              Why would they be doing surveillance at a funeral home?

              Is that a Cuban flag?

              Right there. See the gun?

              Never knew guards at funeral homes needed to carry them kind of weapons.

              It just seems like we should turn it off...

              ...because my dad owns the store.

              She got a tongue ring.

              - This is like a porno. We're not... - Dude. Dude.

              - All right? - Yeah.

              Okay. Okay.

              It's just, you know, my dad's gonna be...

              I just need to... I think l...

              - I think I screwed this up. - Relax.

              - My dad's gonna... This is like a porno. - Oh, yeah. I want more.

              - Okay. - This is official police business.

              - What the fuck's going on here? - Out of my way.

              My dad is coming. My dad is coming.

              What the hell is going on in my store?

              Son, how did this porno crap get on my videos in my store?!

              What the hell is going on in here?!

              - You all right? - No, I'm not all right, Mike.

              Three days of this shit. Got my nerves all rattled.

              My ass still hurts...

              ...from what you did to it the other night.

              Oh, my Lord.

              Yeah, it got rough.

              You know?

              I mean, we got caught up in the moment, shit got crazy.

              You know how I get.

              When you popped me from behind, I think you damaged some nerves.


              Now, I can't...

              I can't... Now, I can't...

              - Can't what? - I can't even get an erection.

              What's an erection?

              I tried taking Viagra, you know, pop one, pop two.

              Been eating them like Skittles.

              That poor man is pouring out his heart.

              And I'm still flaccid.

              Okay. I'm comfortable talking to you...

              It's got  .  Dolby.

              ...about what I did to your ass...

              ...but you not getting an erection...

              ...that's a real problem for me.

              - I just figured I could talk to you. - Yeah. No, no.

              We're... We partners, but we are partners with boundaries.

              We got a new rule.

              From now on you can't say the word "flaccid" to me.

              He's a mean fuck.

              Look here. This is our little boundary box.

              So we gonna take the word "flaccid"...

              ...and we're gonna put it in there with my mom's titties...

              ...with your erection problems, and we're gonna close this box...

              ...and we're gonna throw this bitch in the ocean.

              And the only way that you can get to this box...

     you got to be motherfucking Jacques Cousteau.

              We cool?

              Oh, shit.

              We gotta go.

              In front of my babies you got porno and homo shows up in here?

              What kind of freak-ass store is this?

              And you two motherfuckers need Jesus.

              Cover your ears, baby.

              Palm Mortuary, owned by an offshore holding company...

              ...which, after     layers of bullshit...

              ...turns out to be registered to Donna Maria Tapia...

              ...mother of Hector Juan Carlos Tapia, who calls himself Johnny.

              Johnny Tapia. Shit.

              Every time the PD goes after him...

              ...he sues for wrongful arrest. And, oh, does he win.

              Last year he was awarded $  million.

              And got a dozen dumb-ass officers like you fired.

              Well, he hasn't run across us yet.

              We'd love to hear what's going on in that house.

              Use your computer brain and tap the phone.

              Well, that happens to be highly illegal without a judge.

              We were thinking of something more along the lines of a training operation.

              No, I can't do that.

              - Get you tickets to the Heat game. - I need floor seats.

              With thick-ass glasses you don't need floor seats.

              He can see the game from the parking lot.

              - I can't work under these conditions. - Floor seats to the Heat. You got it.

              - Lakers. - Yes, Lakers.

              Okay. Watch me work.

              Hello? Is this the pest control?

              Yeah. We got a fucking problem.

              You know where we live.

              - Yeah, South Miami. - We got it.

              Got our way in.

              - Illegally? - You got to put a word to it.

              It's like, secret.

              So y'all want to kill roaches?

              - Illegal. - We'll plant a couple gypsy wires...

              ...find out what Tapia's up to.

              These are your basic household bugs.

              Dog, this is what we do.

              - What's the sprayers for? - The roaches.

              - Roaches? We got rats. - Say what?

              That's not an issue. We can handle that.

              We'll just have to slightly adjust our approach a little bit.

              Nope. Nope. I don't mess with no rats.

              Hey. Stop it.

              - We're in. Get your head right. - Mike, I'm a grown-ass man.

              Get your grown-ass self together and let's do this.

              - You got a beautiful house, sir. - Well, start looking.

              They're all over.

              Those ain't normal rats.

              What he means is that they're obviously a special breed.

              - What kind of breed are they? - Big motherfuckers.

              Disposing of the rats isn't a problem.

              But we should ensure there's no breeding elsewhere in the house.

              Yeah, at Zook...

              ...we like to work from the outside in, you know.

              So we gonna leave these... Excuse me.

              We'll leave these here and send in a special unit.

              It'd be better to begin in the rest of the house.

              You're not getting in the rest of the house.

              We won't be able to guarantee our work.

              The only thing that we can guarantee...

     that these rats will keep fucking.

              Giving off offspring until we find the colony.

              Rats don't got no stinking colony.

              Well, actually these are colonial rats.

              What they do is they send out worker rats that are called...



              These drones, they're explorers of the rat world, you know.

              They just looking for rat pussy.

              - You know. - Are you fucking with me?

              Hold on. You called us. We can leave.

              But what you should understand is that these rats will hump twice a day.

              All right. Down there. Just kill them and bring me the bill.

              That's that bullshit. That's that bullshit right there.

              - You see these rats? - Plant your wires.

              - You're not leaving me with them. - Plant your wires.

              Gentlemen. Alexei, Josef.

              Oh, I really like that word, Johnny. "Gentlemen."

              I'm just trying being civil. This is business, we can all relax.

              - Alexei, would you like a Cohiba? - Why not?

              Of course. And you? Josef.

              I'm told you're a wine connoisseur.

              I am.

              Carlos, have Josef pick a wine and Alexei and I will have a cigar. Come.

              - Where the fuck you going? - Pretty bad problem you got here.

              I'm gonna head down to the truck, get some poison pellets and stuff.

              Come straight back. No screwing around.

              They're all over.

              Nice place you got here.

              It's Mama's. And it's a shithole. Built a fucking million years ago.

              - Expensive shithole, eh? - Oh, no.

              My new place I'm building in Cuba. Esto va a set tremendo, brother.

              Almost finished. Everything fucking shiny new. Come on upstairs.

              Oh, shit.

              Oh, shit! Look at the balls on that motherfucker.


              ...the general's office camera is out. - Everything in this house is broken.

              My wire's planted.

              - How about yours? - Almost got three wires planted.


              There's a papa rat humping the shit out of this mama rat.

              No, he's straight pile-driving her!

              Now, how is that information gonna help me do my job?

              They fuck just like us.

              Where's the pest guy?

              There's something going on down here.

              Goddamn rats.

              Yeah, they everywhere. Just like cockroaches.

              No disrespect...

              ...but I do not wish to talk business until my partner return.

              It's baffling. You secretly decide to pay me less and you talk about respect?

              Let's wait for Josef. You know, me and digits.

              Carlos, could you bring Josef in?


              ...your partner is here.

              Would you like to talk now?

              Carlos, another box.

              So you sign over ownership papers for all the Florida clubs you own...

              ...and I will control everything...

              ...from point of origin to sale. Okay?

              No middleman. Especially Russian middleman.

              With all due respect, Mr. Tapia...

     my country, I see such things all the time.

              I'm sorry for your country.

              That must be some Cuban stupid tradition to put them in a tortilla bin.

              Now, listen to me, you Russian punk.

              I, me, Johnny Tapia, will sever your head off!

              You kill me and you will have a shit-storm.

              Should I screw your young wife...

              ...or visit your son, the soccer player?

              My daughter knows your son.

              - You're gonna regret this. - I hope that we can remain friends.

              Because at the end, what else do we have but friendship, trust...


              Without this, we are no more than beasts.

              The kitchen monitor's out.

              What the hell's going on out there?


              I found something.

              - It's a guy's finger. - What, did the rats eat the rest of him?

              - What the fuck are you doing? - Hey, I was just looking for you.

              I think I figured out your problem.

              Y'all a bunch of filthy motherfuckers.

              Blow out!

              - What's going on? Shit! - Get out of the house!

              This shit's got to stop.


              We should go.

              Go! Go!

              Just another day with Mike Lowrey.

              - Damn! Go! - Come on!

              Roberto thinks they were the gangbangers...

              ...that tried to hijack the drop, boss.

              How did this thing happen?

              I don't know. We called the rat people and these guys showed up.

              Maybe you're the rat, huh?

              They tried to steal from me, and you let them into my mother's house.

              Johnny. Hey, no.

              I would never...

              Nobody puts in danger my daughter, my mother...

              ...or my money.

              Send him to the mortuary.

              Johnny. Johnny, what happened to Roberto?

              He killed himself, Mama.

              - Very sad. - Write a nice letter to his mother.

              I'll do it.

              Okay. Bye.

              - Yo, run the print. - Mike, stop playing, man!

              - Run the print. - Don't touch me with no dead finger.

              Excuse me, run this print. I need to find the owner.

              Thank you.

              Think you can find out what's on these shreds?

              Of course.

              We're thinking about ordering lunch.

              Should we put you down for some extra crispy and a couple of grape sodas?

              "Couple of grape sodas."

              - Very funny. That's hilarious. - Isn't it low tide?

                I think it is.

                - Don't you have relatives to pick up? - What?

                Yo, now you crossed the line, man. Okay, no, that's not funny.

                We're fucking with you. We planted wires, we need some help. No bullshit.

                I want you...

       find out...

                ...who those two black puta de mierda are.

                And I want them lying right here...

       Mama's garden in these coffins!

                And our mystery finger belongs to:

                Josef Kuninskavich.

                He was a lieutenant in a Russian mob.

                Owned a couple dozen Florida nightclubs.

                Tapia's starting to knock off Russian mob bosses.

                Got something.

                What you got, dickhead?

                The computer matches half tones, gray tones, densities.

                Sort of like a visual code-breaking.

                Little something I put together.

                The shredded papers was a photo. Some kind of boat. "Dixie  ."

                Dixie  .

                - It's registered to a one Floyd Poteet. - The Poteet brothers.

                One of the KKK guys we busted. You blew his ear off, remember?

                Mike, can you teach me how to shoot people?

                Listen to what we got at Tapia's.

                The second-in-command is talking.

                He's telling him, "Yes, boss. We found a bunch of fat doe fuckers...

                ...and we're getting them emptied." - Fat does emptied?

                - The hell does that mean? - He has a meeting this afternoon.

                - You know who I am? - Name sounds familiar.

                Sense of humor. I like that.

                Meet me on the sand,  :   Shore Club.

                - She has no idea. Let's roll. - Y'all come with us.


          I ordered a couple of Bacardi Mojitos.


          Okay, zoom in on nine. A little more audio, please.

          So, why don't we take a swim? Cool off.

          Or we could just stay here and get drunk. How about that?

          Or we could drink this later.

          Unless you have a reason...

          ...why you don't want to get that beautiful body of yours wet.

          Why not just ask if I'm wearing a wire?

           I'd rather go swimming.

            - What the hell's he doing? - Son of a bitch.

            Shit. He's taking her into the water.

            This guy's smart.

            I want you to work for me. Why waste time on this unnecessary talking?

            It's very unnecessary. What do you need with another banker?

            For the same reason as your previous employer.

            But now I own all the Russian clubs. No middleman.

            I'm about to be the biggest importer and distributor of X in North America.

            You're gonna be a very rich young woman. That's why I thought...

            I know what you thought, Mr. Tapia.

            As long as you don't think it more than once...

            ...l'm happy to be in business with you.

            All right.

            Let's do business.

            What are you, a cop or a model?

            What do you mean? I threw something on. I like looking good. What?

            For who?

            Don't hate the player. Hate the game.

            I hate the tailor.

            Good job. We'll get him.

            Your brother would love to talk to you down the street.

            Whoa, what's going on?

            You trying to blow my case or you just insane?

            You're the one taking a dip with the Cubano maniac.

            - How'd you know that? - We had a wire in the house.

            - You two have a warrant for that wire? - Look, fuck that, okay?

            You don't know the kind of danger that you're in, Syd.

            I am fully aware and I am fully capable of what I am doing.

            I am not your baby sister anymore.

            For the DEA you ain't nothing but a honeypot.

            What'd you just say?

            That's why you got the job, because you look good in a bathing suit.

            All right, let's sit down somewhere.

            All right, look, Syd, there's some shit you need to know.

            Johnny Tapia is cutting up Russian mob bosses in his mom's kitchen.

            In the kitchen, Syd.

            He found a severed finger by the crock pot.

            You're about to be in the middle of a drug war.

            Miami PD has arrested this guy     times with no convictions.

            Why don't you just hang back and let us bring him down?

            Guys, look, I need this, okay? And I am this close.

            What's "this close"?

            I'm in charge of money laundering for his entire operation.

            In a month or two we'll have enough for a conviction and it'll be over.

            What about a day or two? Sound better?

            Marcus and I think we found the key to Tapia's whole operation.

            You have nothing to say now, huh?

            - Just stuck, right? - Okay, time-out, y'all. Damn.

            We got this peckerwood that'll put us down...

            ...with the transport end of Tapia's operation. Do you want in?

            - Why would you...? - When?

            - Tonight. - Page me.

            Should I bring my thong?

            Get your bitch hands off. I'll knock you the fuck out.

            Mike, we're trying to keep her out of trouble, man...

            ...not invite her in.

            Man, I just figured, you know, if she with us...

            ...that's just less trouble she could get into.

            I'm gonna keep it real with you too, man. I think she can handle herself.

            I'm gonna keep it real with you. Don't nobody know my sister like I do.

            Okay? She doesn't make good choices, Mike.

            - She's not street-smart. - Doesn't make good...?

            - Like, what kind of choices? - Men, for one.

            She's attracted to these dumb...

            ...flashy, just musclebound dickheads, Mike. You know?

            Cock diesel motherfuckers that can't even fucking turn to wipe their ass.

            - You feel me? - Yeah.

            You know? Just dumb as a bucket of shrimp.

            Yeah. Yeah. That shit's crazy.

            I mean, you don't think maybe you...

            Maybe you didn't, like, get a chance to know any of them?

            I'm gonna give the next one a chance.

            A chance to whup his ass.

            - Whup the shit out of him. - Oh, you gonna fight him?

            What I'm gonna do ain't even gonna be legal.

            I might be up in here with these motherfuckers.

            Do you know what I mean?

            The fuck you looking at?

            Thank you kindly.

            Thank you kindly.

            - Who sprung me? - Hey, Cousin Floyd.

            - Oh, you. - Remember me?


            Y'all look great together.

            - What the fuck you doing? - Just a little insurance.

            You gonna help us find Dixie  ...

            ...and tell us what that boat has to do with Johnny Tapia.

            - I ain't no snitch. - Oh, you ain't no snitch?

            - Oh, damn. That's a shame. - Know what I'm gonna do?

            I'm gonna send a special   x     to his KKK buddies back in jail.

            You know what, it's a digital photo too.

            So we can do whatever we want to do with it.

            By the time we get done with you...

   gonna be in the next Busta Rhymes video on BET.

            Tuck ass.

            I got my rights.

            I'm worried. There's too much heat around in Miami.

            I can feel it. I can feel it.

            We need to put my money in coffins to Cuba faster.

            You should tell the mortuary to speed things up. All right?

            That's the channel marker way out there.

            They make the drop mostly at dawn, but there'll be one today, though.

            Syd, you talk to Mama? She's got hives.

            Oh, and I told Mama about your Cubano boyfriend.

            He ain't invited to Christmas dinner.

            Change the station. More music, less Marcus.

             If you open the door he'll be a black Dr. Phil for the next    minutes.

              Syd, you might not want to get too flirty with Mike.

              Your boyfriend might cut off his trigger finger.

              Maybe Mike's been flirting with me. Did you ever think about that?

              Trigger Mike?

              Not like this. Don't play with that boy.

              - Seriously. Don't play with that boy. - Just tell him about New York.

              - Do it. - Tell me what?

              Oh, shit. Is he walking down the steps?

              Oh, shit. He coming down.

              - It's okay. - Yeah, you done fucked up.

              You done fucked up.

              You remember...

              Remember I went to New York? You remember?


              ...I said, "Syd."

              I ran in...

              Syd ran into me in New York on the street in that place.

              And I said:

              "What's up?"

              And we was hungry, so then...

              ...she had fish.

              It was grouper.

              And then I had some chicken.

              Remember I was supposed to come home?

              But I didn't.

              We went out on a date.

              Five, actually. Now we're seeing each other.

              Hold up.

              You know, really out of respect for you, Marcus, nothing happened.

              Hey, Mike, why you tripping, man?

              I mean, we wanted to make sure you was cool with it.

              Doesn't matter what I think, you know. Hey, I had to find out like this, right?

              Don't matter.

              Let me ask you, y'all gonna have babies? Little bunch of mini Mikes?

              Bunch of little lying, violent motherfuckers?

              Marcus, nothing happened.

              I just want to say, Mama's gonna be thrilled.

              All right, you know what, you need to "whoosah" or something for a second.

              Hey, here comes the Dixie  .


              Just leave it alone.

              - Why you acting like that? - Go on about your business, man.

              - We gonna talk about this. - No. Get out of my face.

              - I'm trying to talk to you. - Get the fuck off me, Mike.

              What the hell is your problem, man?! Why you acting so stupid?!

              This is a dysfunctional partnership. That's why I'm acting like that.

              - You know... - There ain't no trust.

              I didn't lie to you!

              I was waiting for the right time to tell you. But that ain't your issue.

              Why don't you bring it to me real. What is your problem with this?!

              You know what? You a dog, man.

              - That's it. There it is. I said it. - Oh, okay.

              You like a pit bull with that little pink thing hanging out.

              Oh, it's like that. Oh, okay.

              I'm not good enough for your sister.

              Guys, enough. The boat's coming.

              Okay. We gonna handle that shit. Go ahead, man.

              In about an hour, the drop boat's gonna come.

              We got them.

              Wonder what mortuary that coffin's going to.

              Keep going straight by.

              You seeing what I'm seeing?

              Get the load to the mortuary and don't screw up.

              I got it.

              Load up.

              They're getting away!

              Stop! Stop!

              We need your car. All right?

              - Get out the car. - Can't you get a better car than that?

              Let that man go!

              - Don't be coming at me with that tone. - Freak.

              - Small cars don't hurt the ozone layer. - That's what I'm talking about.

              - Stop the car. - Get... Yeah.

              - Pop the trunk. Get out. Get in. - Get out. Get out.

              - Get your ass in. - Okay.

              - I am in the middle of a sale. - Do I have to pull my gun?

              Oh, shit. Dan Marino. What's up? Back up, Dan. Hey, you're the truth.

              - Whatever you need, officers. - That's Dan Marino.

              - Hey. Back up. - Let me know how it rides.

              He's gonna test-drive the shit out this.

              Go. I don't want to blow my cover.

              Got them. Got them right there.

              Why you gotta get so close?

              - I won't let that coffin get away. - But they're all around us.

              Shit, those are the gangbangers.

              Relax, they don't know us.

              Boss, we got a problem here. We're being followed.

              This is a big problem, Carlos.

              - Sorry, boss. I'll take care of it, okay? - Kill those black bitches. All right?!

              They made us. Get some undercovers to roll with us.

              We're splitting up. Everybody go to Third and Boxter, now!

              Here we go.

              I didn't sign up for no goddamned car chase!

              Have you lost your mind?

              I see you got your mind set on doing dumb shit, so please let me out!

              I seen this in a movie once. They didn't make it!

              Oh, shit!

              - Dump truck! - I got it.

              - Mike! - I'm fine. I'm fine.

              Right there! Oh, shit, Mike!

              - Did you see that shit? - No shit.

              Dan Marino should definitely buy this car.

              Not this one. I'm fucking this one up. But definitely one like this.

              I almost missed that.

              All right, that was almost fucked up. I almost fucked up.


              This is not necessary.

              Oh, shit!

              - Damn! - Dead man on the hood! Dead man!

              - I'm trying to get it off. - Get it off!

              I'm trying to get it off.

              - That shit's nasty. That's nasty. - Get it off! Get...

              That shit is nasty.

              - Undercover police! Everybody move! - Undercover police!

              - Move! - Move! Move! Move!

              Coming around the corner!

              Get ready, they're coming around the block. Move!

              Up top!


              Boy, if this was my car, I'd be pissed!

              Get down! Get down!

              Trying to break the world record for gun fights in a week!?

              This is not the time to criticize!

              I can't work with you blaming me all the time!

              - This is not your fault? - This is not... No! No!

              Bullshit, Mike! Everything's your fault!

              Okay, let's go! Let's go!

              - Clear around! - Cool!

              I'm going around!

              - Mike, got him! - They got the coffin.


              Move! Move! Get down! Police! Get down!

              Move! Move!

              Police! Move! Move!

              Get out of my way! Move! Move!

              Get down! Get down!

              Shit! Open the door! Police!


              Whoa! Shit!

              Mike! Mike!

              That boy bit me!


              Move! Move!

              Police! Move!

              Police! Move!

              He under there?

              We lost the coffin...

              ...and you barbecued our only lead, Mike.

              This has got to be the worst, most emotional cop week of my life.

              Yeah, it's been a little rough.

              - Where were these bodies going? - I don't know. It's really strange.

              All the John Does we found out here are empty.

              Empty Does. Fat Does.

              Cut them open, took the organs out. Sewed them back up.

              Nice work.

              The more you guys fuck up, the more we look like rock stars.

              The van you was chasing is a transport for the city morgue.

              The John Does were being delivered to the university for medical research.

              - Nice going. - I can't believe you guys.

              Do you both wake up in the morning, call each other up?

              "Good morning, Marcus." "Morning, Mike."

              "How you doing?" "A'ight."

              "So how are we gonna fuck up the captain's life today?"

              "Gee, I don't know." "I don't know."

              "Ooh. Look, over there.

              Let's kill three fat people...

              ...and leave them on the street."

              They were dead before we ran over them.

              It doesn't matter whether they were dead or not, goddamn it!

              Every time you leave a corpse on the street...

              ...I have to get these forensic coroner guys to come to see what happened.

              Then I gotta get detectives. See? They're detecting shit.

              Then I gotta get these forensic guys to stick them back in the fucking bag!

              Jesus Christ!

              You guys, you're like...

              You're like a bunch of bloodsucking ticks...

              ...draining the life's blood out of this department.

              - Whoosah. - Damn the whoosah, captain.

              - Did you just call me a tick? - I was referring to him.

              - Thought so. - These aren't normal corpses.

              If I threw you out of a speeding ice truck...

              ...and then ran over your head, you wouldn't be normal either.

              Think about this for a second. These bodies have been emptied...

              ...from a drug smuggler that just happens to own a mortuary.

              I got a bunch of bodies waiting with plenty of room in them...

              ...I could smuggle some shit.

              - Johnny Tapia has the perfect cover. - Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.

              Johnny Tapia?

              I want a warrant to go into his mortuaries immediately.

              No warrant. What? For what? For what?

              For a bunch of dead guys on their way to med research?

              No. Every time we go after him, he sues us and wins.

              This shit stops now or they'll fire us, disband TNT...

              ...and stick me in a fucking coffin.

              - This is over now! - What happened to "whatever it takes"?

              That was pre-vehicular manslaughter. Not to mention Johnny Tapia...

              - What the fuck is that? - Oh, shit.

              Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up.

              This man has violated my rights!

              Who the fuck is that?

              Running people over is not enough for you? Now you're into kidnapping?

              That man is a criminal. Okay? We busted him at the...

              Excuse me, I have so much brass up my ass...

              ...I could be playing "The Star-Spangled Banner."

              I ain't cut out for this, man.

              Come on, man. I can't do this with you right now.

              - I'm re-evaluating what's important. - About what? Being a cop?

              No, about you being my partner.

              Is this about Syd? God! Hey, Marcus, man...

              That was messed up, but that ain't what this is about, Mike.

              Once we nail Tapia, you and me, we're over.

              I already signed my transfer papers.

              Megan, what's the name of this boy taking you to the movies?


              Daddy, please don't embarrass me and ask him a lot of questions.

              Everybody knows you're a cop, and it makes people nervous.

              Well, why nervous? He on crack?

              - It's cool? - Yeah. Come in.

              What'd you...?

              I got a sneak and peek.

              Judge Sinclair said we can go into the mortuary tonight.

              We can't touch nothing, but if we find something...

              ...he'll give us a righteous warrant.

              You love pissing Captain Howard off, don't you?

              It's what I do.

              So when you start playing golf?

              Hey, so you real serious about this transfer thing, huh?

              I mean, you been quitting for     years. I just always thought it was...

     you dealt with all this shit.

              It's what's best for me and my family.

              Look, I'm gonna get my stuff, man.

              "We ride together, we die together.

              Bad boys for life."

              We getting old, Mike.

              One of them young punks coming to take my baby out on her first date.

              - Who the fuck are you? - Hi, Mr. Burnett. I'm Reggie.

              - What you doing here? - I came to take out Megan.

              - What?! - I came to take out Megan.

              - How old are you? - I'm     Mr. Burnett.

              Motherfucker, you look   .

              - Show me some ID. - I don't have none on me.

              You don't have no ID. Get your ass up against that wall.

              What is your problem?

              You think you know it all. Little young Thundercats.

              - Got joints on you? - No.

              - You smoke that shit? - No, sir.

              You trying to get my daughter high? Do you smoke that shit?

              - Nigga, who that is at the door? - It's Reggie.

              - Who the fuck is Reggie? - Came to take Megan out.

              - What you want, nigga? - I'm here to take his daughter out.

              - What's your name? - Reggie.

              I heard the motherfucker say your name Reggie.

              You taking Megan out?

              - How old is you? - Fifteen.

              - Shit, nigga, you at least   . - This is Mike.

              - Can you fight? - Yeah.

              You can fight? Motherfucker. You can't fight. Look at you...

              - Cut it out. - I want to know if...

              When somebody taking my niece out, I want to know if he can fight.

              Somebody might come say something, the nigga can't fight, she can't go.

              This is Megan's godfather, okay? He just got out the joint.

              Why you putting all my business in the street?

              - They call him... - I got out of jail. I ain't going back!

              I ain't going back!

              What's wrong with you? You're scared. You ain't seen a gun before?

              Stop pointing the gun at the boy.

              Look, don't you disrespect me in front of company.

              Let the gun go off.

              Nigga, you a big, tall, Ludacris-looking motherfucker, ain't you?

              - You rap? - No.

              Hey, Mike!

              Now, listen. Have my daughter home at    :  .

              If she ain't home at    :   I'm in the car, okay?

              Lock, loaded and hunting your motherfucking ass down.

              - Do you hear me? Speak up. - I'll go with him.

              If I'm there, know what it'll be? Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, nigga.

              - That's what it'll be. - Marcus!

              Reggie, baby, I am so sorry. Forgive Megan's dad and his silly friend.

              - You a virgin? - Yes.

              Keep it that way. Ain't gonna be no fucking tonight.

              Baby, the red shirt's nice. You guys have a good time.

              - You ever made love to a man? - No.

              - You want to? - No, sir.

              - Hey, have a good time, baby. - Go. Go.

              - All right. - I need to go.

              That was cool.

              So you ready to bust this case open?

              Oh, yeah. Let's finish strong. All right?

              All right, ladies. We cannot take a burn tonight or Tapia walks.

              I need a good, clean break-in.

              - Zank, eyeball. - Eyeball set.

              - Dex, high ground. - Rooftop set.

              - Fanuti, light your crack pipe. - Got you.

              Lockman, you buzzing?

              We're up, baby.

              - Hello, anybody home?! - We got a stiff to deliver!

              - What's going on here, man? - We got a stiff to deliver.

              - Nobody told me about any stiff. - The guy's in the van now. He's fresh.

              No deliveries tonight.

              They told us to come right over to the place. This is the place.

              - We must bring him in here. I'm sorry. - No one in.

              - You get that body to the morgue yet? - Morgue?

              You said to get it to the Spanish Palms Mortuary.

              No, you dumb Latin fuck.

              What you smoking in that crack pipe?

              Who you calling a Latin fuck, man?


              There's burnt people down here, Mike.

              Oh, fuck.

              Damn, somebody's teeth.

              Now that we're here, you need to sign some paperwork...

              ...because the man is very contagious. His contagiousness could touch you.

              You guys have a nice evening. Good night.

              Might you see us inside for some hot cocoa?

              Cam one, I got a good signal. Cam two, I got a good signal.

              - Damn! - Stop it. Do not do that tonight.

              - You don't smell that? - Oh, yeah, I smell it.

              - It stinks. - Stop!

              I'm gonna have some Pepto.

              - This dude hasn't been embalmed yet. - What you talking about?

              They stick a tube down your throat and just suck out all the gunk and bile.

              Because what happens is, your body'll get gaseous and you'll decompose.

              Don't want that to happen before your family see you.

              - I don't need to know that now. - They sew your mouth closed.

              They got to get it all out because a lot of times dead people'll fart.

              That shit'll clear a funeral home out.

              - How do you know all that? - Learning Channel. That shit got me.

              Oh, shit.

              You're not even gonna warm up to it?

              Hey! Do some cop work.

              - He's a human being. - Check the casket.

              Why don't you check his spine while you're in there.

              I'm retching.


              - What? - Have some dignity.

              - I ain't doing nothing. - Cover her titties up.

              Like, what am I gonna do with these big-ass dead titties?

              But you're looking, though.

              There's... Something's wrong with your brain.

              Just cover the titties.


              Damn. This nicer than some cribs.

              She's going to Cuba.

              Who's top cop now? Huh?

              That's what I'm talking about. See? There you go.

              That's it right there. Take a picture of the money, then check this body.

              Nah, I'm gonna count these. You know?

              Check the body.

              I'm gonna check the body, Mike. I'm not rushing into it, that's all.

              This one's going to a mortuary in L.A.

              I'm gonna check this one.

              That's that bullshit that I be talking about.

              Mike, the motherfucking head fell off.

              Come here.

              I'm back in the game.

              Think I got something.

              Feels like a bag.

              Shit, it's his kidney.

              I smell dead people.

              Drugs and money. We got him, baby.

              This dude is loaded.

              Bet he thinks he's a damn genius, transporting them in dead bodies.

              Let's get this body.

              Mike, you got company, man.

              Somebody's coming. Hide! Give me the X. Give me the X.

              You gotta stall them.

              Hide! Hide! Hide!


              Punk kids do this? Go check it out.


              Marcus! Why would you...? That's just not smart, man.

              You tell Theresa, I'll kill you.

              Bimbo's next.

              Oh, God. Not that. Not the bimbo.

              Let's hurry this shit up.


              We got a big problem. We got a big problem.

              Drive that ambulance into the building right now.

              - Crash it into the building! - No. Not me, baby.

              I got too many crashes on my file. You do it.

              No. You're kidding. I got red-flagged last month for the thing.

              You know how much the city paid. I can't have another ding on my file.

              Mike, my man, we want to help you out here, you know...

              ...but we got a couple of administration problems over here, you know?

              So how about we give sirens and some flashing lights?

              Make a racket. How's that?

              Negative! Negative!

              Crash that ambulance into the building right now!

              We want to help the team out and everything, but...

              But I'm not getting suspended for this.

              Okay, I plan on whupping y'all asses the second I get out of here.

              - Crash into the building right now! - Screw it.

              Just the price of cop business.

              Now, get her on the table.

              Oh, my God.

              Jeez! What the hell! I'm so... I'm so...

              That's tragic, man.

              Go, go, go. Back door's clear. Go! Go!

              Get up, Marcus!

              The gas got stuck. I didn't mean to.

              Oh, man.

              Supple leather, you know.

              You ever rub your leather?

              You know, like, just rub it. See how good it feels.

              What does love mean to you, Mike?

              Don't worry about me and my love.

              Look, I got plenty of love in my life.

              Like a woman's butt.

              - Don't do that. - Whoa, whoa, whoa. Mike.

              Let's just concentrate and get this warrant.

              I need to express right now.

              I want you to know, if this is our last job, I really appreciate you.


              No, this is not gay shit.

              This is man shit. You know what I mean?

              And you a beautiful man. You know?

              And when you let the beautiful side...

              - What? - Look at your pupils.

              How am I look at my pupil? What, I'm...

              Yo, what are you taking? Did you take some of that X?

              - Hey, look, give me a hug. - Hey, get off. Listen, listen. Listen!

              We need this warrant. Do not fuck this up. Pull yourself together.

              Evening, captain.



              So how do you two plan to fuck up my evening tonight?

              Well, captain, believe me, we would not be here...

              ...if it weren't seriously, utterly important.

              Get in here.

              Get off me!

              Cap, this is beautiful.

              Have such a warm feel, you know.

              Sort of like a "ving shwa." What's it, Mike?

              - It was a V, like a "von schwo." - Why don't you have a seat?

              - Or "ven wangs" or... - Feng shui.

              "Von sway."

              You have a "von sway" home.

              Make yourself at home.

              All right, captain, I know you said that Johnny Tapia was hands...

              - Oh, no! No! - Look, captain, we got him. It's a wrap.

              Look, we messed up today, but we got him. Please just look.

              - How do I move it? - Here, you flip through the pictures.

              You can flip... You can flip through picture...

              This is horrible.

              - Take the picture. - You can look really close.

              Listen, we got everything that we need to take this dude.

              Oh, God.

              They're taking the organs out.

              Right there you can... You can... Yeah. If you look there...

              Oh, gosh.

              This is good. That's horrible.

              Look at this.

              Everybody just needs to relax. Whoosah. Whoosah. Whoosah.

              What are you doing? Marcus, it's   a.m. Get your hands off me.

              Remember we said we were gonna call Vargas and Reyes?

              - No, I don't... - Call Vargas!

              Tell him the thing we said to tell him.

              - What thing? - Tell him we said... About yesterday.

              And tell him about the thing.

              So, captain, listen, we've also got videotape.

              Yesterday, we fucked up bad. But we got him now.

              Oh, shit.

              - What? - No, a lot of times with these...

              Oh, shit!

              - What? Did I erase it? - No. We got video.

              - We got fucking... - Oh. Let me see.

              Oh, shit.

              He's shipping the drugs around the country in bodies.

              We found coffins of cash, tagged for Cuba.

              And you think Tapia's about to move out with all this money?

              I love it when you call me Bunny Nose.


              Yeah, I do, girl.

              You should see this sexy shit I got on.

              Who the hell are you talking to?

              I talked to Vargas and...

              ...Ru... Reyes. They said that they're down for whatever.

              This is a nice fish, you know.

              Big fucking eyes, but a nice fucking fish.

              We need this warrant, captain.

              Let's take this scumbag down.

              What the fuck is going on?

              - He ingested X. - You okay, pal? Take it easy.

              Okay, thank you.

              Poison lady says we gotta keep him cool.

              Otherwise, he's burning up, he can get brain damage.

              Nobody'll even notice that.

              Mike, I got an erection.

              Take me home.

              Call the wife, tell her I'm on the way.

              Hope you guys hear me.

              - We got her. Loud and clear. - She's in.


              Palm Mortuary, Alpha team.

              - Tapia's mansion, Delta. - Dixie Boy boat dock, Bravo.

              Coast Guard gunships, anything that hits the water.

              We hit all three places simultaneously.

              Tac up at   :  . We go hot at   :   sharp.

              Bring the noise.

              You're such a beautiful girl.

              Thank you.

              - Johnny. - Yeah?

              - Is she a Negro? - Please, Mama!

              Shut up! Get out of here!

              You make your bed, you sleep in it!

              Make way!

              - Get down! - Don't fucking move!

              You take risks. I like that.


              ...maybe I'm the one taking a risk on you. Huh?

              - Yeah? - Yeah.

              Excuse me, boss. We need to talk now.

              Something's going on outside.

              - Cops. - What the fuck do you mean, cops?

              Goddamn it.

              DEA. You don't plan on entering, do you?

              - We have a warrant to get in there. - A UC's inside. She's gotta leave first.

              You got two minutes.

              - Call her on her cell. - Yes, sir.

              Cut the power to the house.

              - You got her? Well, let's go. - No, sir.

              We got a bogey.

              God. This is for you, Josef, and me and Mother Russia.

              They're not gangbanger homeys. They're cops.


              They weren't trying to hit the load. I think they were looking after her.

              Now, you tell me...

              ...where is the wire? - They made her.

              We gotta get her out. Go! Come on!

              Hey, Tapia, you fucking mother.

              The Russian Grim Reaper is here.

              Everything's in here.

              - Oh, shit. - Goddamn.

              Eyeball, has anything left this mortuary in the past two hours?

              A four-hearse funeral just left. We trailed them to Miami Harbor.

              Miami Air, Tapia's running his money to Cuba. Get us a chopper!

              Hey, Tapia!

              You scared of me, you little scumbag?!

              - We got some heat. - Pull the car back.

              I'll fucking kill you! Who the hell are you?

              - Drop the weapon! - Drop the weapon now!

              - I'm with you guys! - Put it down, now!

              - I'm over here! - Shut up!

              - Drop the weapon! - I'll kill that son of a bitch!

              This is Alpha. Heads up to the Coast Guard Sharks and Bravo Team.

              Close the harbor. Freeze any moving speedboat.

              This is Bravo.

              We got a go-fast slinging a high rate of speed down Miami harbor.

              Stop that boat.

              This guy's moving us.

              Think we're going for the bridge.

              Coast Guard, we're going in.

              Miami Police. Shut it down.

              This is the police. Shut it down.

              - Watch out, he got a weapon. - Bail out!

              Coast Guard, take him down. Burn him.

              Vessel is dead in the water. Vessel is dead in the water.

              This is what we do.

              Oh, man, it's full up. It's full up.

              It's a righteous bust.

              How the hell they slip away?

              Give me the watch commander on the horn.

              Do you know her brother on Miami PD? Find him.

              Do you know anyone who might want to save your life?

              - Hello? - Marcus, they...!

              You have $      million of mine...

              ...and I want it back in    hours.

              Shit just got real.

              Jack Snell, DEA.

              Agent Eames, FBI...

              ...who has just informed me...

              ...that satellite pinpointed Tapia's jet in Cuban airspace    minutes ago.


              United States does not negotiate with hostage-takers.

              Especially Cuban hostage-takers.

              It's a delicate situation.

              This is not just a situation. This is my sister.

              Off the record, all State Department agencies...

              ...are using their back-channel contacts for a diplomatic solution.

              You know, by the time y'all finish being diplomatic...

     sister could be in a fucking box. This is bullshit.

              He ain't getting away from us that easy.

              We ride together...

              ...we die together.

              Bad boys for life.

              We just gotta do it ourselves, man.

              I don't know you.

              You look like you're about to do something stupid. I'm in.

              Dodd tell you how crazy us ex-Delta guys are?

              My brother, Tito, lives in Cuba.

              He's a little crazy, but he's hooked up with the underground.

              Weapons, men, a safe house. Whatever we need.

              You can forget about passports and all that stuff.

              Because if the Cubans catch us, we're all dead.

              My brother Tito's in Alpha    the Anti-Castro Underground.

              What does that have to do with Tapia?

              Everything. Tapia's the biggest supplier of drug cash to Castro.

              So Alpha    will be all over him.

              Brother, that is perfect. He says he can get men on the tunnel right away.

              Let me holler at him.

              Tito, we need layout, security, the whole deal.

              We got info that Tapia's got a casket coming in tomorrow at  :   p.m.

              Yeah, that might be our way in. Yeah.

              Brought you a little care package from my friends over at the CIA.

              They want to help. And don't ask me.

              They're spies.

              Former Delta Intel and Demo. Requesting permission to tag along.

              Ronnie, I hear there's a boat on fire off the coast of Cuba.

              Shouldn't we break international waters to help them?

              That's my dog.

              Point of no return.

              I want to thank y'all from the bottom of my heart.

              - Mike, look, I just... - Tell me when we get back.

              The target's in sight. I see the boat.

              Roger. Target     o'clock.     yards.

              Roper in the door. Stand by.

              Go! Go! Go!

              - Tito? - Welcome to Cuba.

              Damn. What's up with the safe house across the street from Tapia's crib?

              This is the last place anyone would look.

              We've been watching the place. Guards play soccer each day at  :  .

              The bad news, everyone knows he uses the army like his bodyguards.

              - This is Tapia's compound. - CIA hooked us up, huh?

              Yeah. This LIDAR laser technology even shows his escape tunnel.

              The alarm security is wired to the army.

              We're screwed if we don't blow up this security room before we make a move.

              The tunnel we're digging branches off.

              One under his back yard and the other into his escape tunnel.

              We gotta hurry up.

              See? I told you my brother was a maniac.

              - How we looking? - Let me check it out.

              Papi, you look like Jesus.

              Why they call this The Last Supper?

              It was the last time they were all together before Jesus was crucified.


              Hold your ears. Hey, you.

              Listen to me. This is fucking depressing! You understand?!

              I mean, who had this fucking idea?

              I just want little angels looking down on me.

              Okay, here's the ocean,     yards from Tapia's house.

              We're here. Safe house. First tunnel comes through to here.

              First team takes out the security station.

              Second tunnel comes through into the center of the house.

              Tito, your contacts inside said Syd's in the last bedroom...

              ...on the second floor, right?

              Lupe's one of us. If she says your sister's there...

              ...she is there.

              Three o'clock sharp, the bag of cats and iguanas go over the fence.

              Hopefully the motion detectors'll go so crazy security'll shut them off.

              My guys will watch the outside for any military.

              If they come, that's bad.

              Let's make this count, guys.

              We're in.

              Goddamn it, it's the fifth time today.

              Carlos, turn off the motion sensors till we get it fixed.

              - Look what I found. Can I keep them? - No.

              All right, guys...

              ...sensors are down. Time to move. - We are     %% go.

              Let's go.

              Left. Left. Yeah. There we go. This is not as easy as it looks.

              Okay, we're at the T. Split right.

              Good luck, guys.

              Let's go. Come on, let's go.

              Find the soccer game. Sniff it out, baby. Sniff it out.

              To the left. To the left. Oh, shit.

              Oh, you did not see me.

              - Ready to bust into the escape tunnel. - There we go. Soccer.


              Go, go, go, go, go!


              Get me the American bitch.

              Call General Santos. Tell him I need him now!

              Sorry, darling. Take her outside to safety. Come on.

              - Carlos, this is not good! - I know!

              - Where is General Santos?! - He's coming, boss!

              You fucking maricons! I'm gonna blow your head off!


              What's happened to this gun? My son will slice you into chorizo.

              - Mama, I'm very sorry. - You little puta!

              - Vargas, you in? - We got Mama and the girl.

              We're entering the house. Go!

              Move! Move! Move!

              Everything's clear outside. You got    seconds max. Haul ass.

              You got two rovers on the balcony. I can't get a shot off.

              See the rover? I missed him!

              Get down! Get down now!

              - Get down! - Down!

              Move! Move! Move!

              - Marcus! - Come on!

              Move! We got the package.

              Move now. It's turning into a real bad day.

              - Vargas, we're coming back. Cover us! - We got you covered, baby.

              Somebody talk to me. What's going on?

              The military is everywhere.

              - This is bad, I have to go. - Listen, you have a lot of company.

              Get out of there now!

              I'm hit! I'm hit!

              Head for the tunnel. I'll blow this.

              Go, go! Get out!

              Mike, you gotta get out.

              Vargas! Get out! Abort!

              Vargas! Get out! Abort!

              We won't reach the tunnel! Go to plan B.

              - We're going to plan B! - What plan B?!

              You don't pay attention to shit!

              - What's the plan B? - That's your problem!

              Are you fucking shitting me? Let's go!

              - Follow me! Follow me! - I will...

              Plan B? What the hell is plan B?

              - Tito, what you doing here? - You need a Cuban guide, fool.

              This way!

              - They won't make it to the tunnel. - Let's blow out of here!

              Keys, keys, keys!

              Oh, my God! No! God! Oh, my God!

              Plan B did not have that big-ass gun in it!

              You call this plan B?! What the plan B stand for? Bullshit!

              Do you want to drive?!

              Yeah, pull over by the fuckers with the machine guns!


              I am not to be fucked with!

              I missed the part of the meeting when you drive through the dining room.

              And right out the front door.

              Get in the truck!

              Cuban army was everywhere.

              - Gotta get us to Guantanamo Bay! - No.

              You can't drive onto a U.S. Naval base.

              Hey, we're Americans, okay?

              Marcus, you know how when we usually get in these situations...

              ...l'm always trying to make you feel better, like we'll be all right.

              - Yeah, yeah. - I could say it...

              ...but that'd be a bunch of bullshit today.

              Military, military.

              - Which way?! - No, right! Right! Go right!

              These are drug dealer shacks. They make cocaine here.

              Hope there's shit in there that likes to blow.

              Faster! I'll kill you, motherfucker!

              I'm gonna go for it.

              - This is a big-ass hill. - Shit.

              - Oh, shit! Is this still called plan B? - No, this is definitely plan C.

              Oh, Jesus!

              God! God!

              Everybody start shooting at somebody!

              Shoot! Shoot!

              - Shit! I'm out! - I got two rounds left.

              - One in the chamber. - I'm out.

              All these guns and none of you got no bullets?!

              - I got one in my hip! - Oh, God, he's hit!

              There! Gitmo!

              U.S. Soil, baby. U.S. Soil.

              Come on! Go!

              - Americans on the way! - Whoa, watch...

              Run it! Run it!


              Go! Go! Go!



              We're Americans!

              I pay my motherfucking taxes! Shoot them!

              Hey, fucking gringo. Drop the gun!

              Put it down! Put it down!

              They can't help you. You're staying in Cuba.

              You are standing on a live minefield!

              Do not move!

              Look, why don't we all go home...

              Well, we'll go home, you go to a hotel.

              Work this shit out another day. None of us is having a good day right now.

              - Give me the gun! - Okay.

              I'll toss it right at your feet...

              ...right next to the mine.

              Now, that's how you supposed to shoot!

              From now on, that's how you shoot!

              Oh, I want my next partner to shoot just like that.

              It take a dysfunctional motherfucker to bust somebody in the head like that.

              That's some dysfunctional shit.

              My next partner'll invite me to his barbecues, though.

              Come here, girl. Come here.

              I came all the way to Cuba for this.

              Come on.

              Y'all gotta do that around land mines?

              Would you tell them that that shit is dangerous around these land mines?

              You know, Mike, this ain't easy for me, but I was wrong.

              I'll be very proud for you to date my sister.

              - Thanks, man. - All right.

              You know, me and Syd thought about it...

              ...and your behavior was so crazy that...

              ...any magic we could've captured, probably best if we didn't... You know.

              You're just gonna take advantage of my little sister?

              Already you breaking her heart?

              - What you talking about? - She not good enough for you?

              Syd, Mike says you ain't shit!

              Now, why would you scream out some crazy nonsense like that?

              I don't appreciate you coming here, disrespecting me in my new pool.

              I bought your new pool.

              Why don't you hook this pool up to your Ferrari and drag it out of here?

              First of all, I was joking.

              And second of all, all this right here, smell yourself right now.

              Because this moment is what's wrong with you.

              I got the transfer papers in the trash can.

              I'll get them and glue them the fuck up.

              - Glue them up. - What?

              - Want some glue? - We won't be partners no more.

              I got glue in the car.

              I'm trying to talk to you. It's hot, I feel like I'm cooking in this fucker...

              ...and I gotta hear shit out of you? Then on top of that shit...

     gonna dog my baby sister?

              Oh, this that bullshit!



              I kept the warranty. I kept the warranty!

                Bad boys, bad boys

                What you gonna do?

                What you gonna do When we come for you?

                Bad boys, bad...

                Come on, you gotta learn the words.

                Mike, you don't know the damn words either.

                Bad boys, bad boys What you gonna do?

                What you gonna do When they come for you?

Special help by SergeiK