How you doin'?
Man, you crazy, man?
I ain't goin' up in there.

Yo, Rocco. Yeah, yeah, come on, come
on, man. I ain't got nothin' to say.

I was prayin'
you could help me out here.

Because to tell you the truth,
I've come completely around
to your way of thinking.

- What's my way of thinkin'?
- I know your brother is innocent.

If Victor was my brother
and I knew what you know,

every day of my life
would be a living hell.

You think we can do something
about this?

- About what?
- All bullshit aside.

You, me, Victor, we all know
who did Darryl Adams.

Who do you think?
I don't know. You tell me.
- Me?
- You little fuck. You did it.

I know it, you know it!
- Your brother knows it.
- Shit.

What's the thinkin' on this,
that if Victor claims self-defence,

he'll get off
because he has no record?

His life is over!
I know it's rough out here
for young, black males

with racism, no jobs,
single parent families...

- Fuck that.
- Don't fuckin' gesture at me.

Have some fuckin' respect.
But you're the fuckin' king snake!
You're a low-down, cold-blooded,
evil junkyard nigger...

- I've never seen in my life.
- What you talkin' about?

What'd you do, offer him money?
Who the fuck are you kiddin'?
You're not the Mafia.

You're not even Rodney Little! You're
a skinny-ass snake motherfucker.

You think you're hot shit. You ain't
nothing but a cold, fucking fart.

You don't know a motherfuckin' thing
about me.

You just a racist-ass,
nigger-hating cop.

You don't know how it is
for brothers.

And you motherfuckin' definitely...
- Don't point...
- ..nothin' about what's goin' on.

Don't you fuckin' point
your finger at me.