- I couldn't have shot Darnell.
I was at my cousin's birthday party.
Red Lobster, November 9th.
- At Red Lobster?
- Mm-hmm.
- Geez, I gotta tell you, Gun Rack,
I find that really hard to believe.
♪ I got an alibi, birthday, Red Lobster ♪
♪ When in reality I shot Darnell like a mobster ♪
♪ It's a lot ♪
♪ Anyone could tell this ♪
♪ If you know about my allergy to all shellfish ♪
- Just confess, Gun Rack.
- I confess that shellfish is the only thing
that rhymes would tell this.
(upbeat music)
- Look, Rashid.
I'm gonna make this really nice and easy for you.
I need names, and you're going to give them to me.
- You have to listen to me. You have to listen to me.
This is all a huge mistake.
- Bull (beep)!
Department of Homeland Security's
been monitoring your calls for weeks, Rashid.
We got you.
We know about you and your friends.
We know that you're a-
- Terrierist!
I am a terrierist.
Me and my friends, we breed dogs, specifically terriers.
We write terrierist fiction.
We spend a good deal of time
discussing possible future terrierist plots.
(Rashid shouts)
- It's a nice try, really is.
But it's bull (beep), Rashid!
Come on.
Is that the best you got?
- What?
- Now, come on. I'm listening. Just tell me, tell me.
Tell me about this imminent attack.
- What? What?
- What, what? What?
- I don't know what you're talking about.
- What are you talking about? What am I talking about?
I don't know. Huh? Huh?
I don't know what you're talking about.
- That's what I'm telling you. - Oh yeah. You don't know?
- I don't know. I don't know.
- Mm-hmm. Mm-hmm.
June 11th, Rashid! You spoke of an imminent attack.
- Oh. Oh yes.
No, listen, that was my friend.
Listen, his dog bit him.
And I told him, if you do not train them,
another terrier attack is imminent.
(Rashid shouts)
(Rashid retches)
- [Interrogator] So you lied and you see what happens?
- I'm not lying.
- Come on, Rashid. I like you.
Let's be friends, huh?
Now, you still haven't explained to me why we found
on the search engine of your computer
the words "Target Washington" 49 times.
- That is because I was in DC for a dog show
and I had to buy a squeezy toy, a birthday card,
and some deodorant, all at an affordable price.
- All right.
- You can only do that at Target.
- Yeah. Okay.
I see how you wanna play this.
Come on. Give me this.
This is not a case of mistaken identity, Rashid.
And you know it!
We've heard the conversations between you and Jafar,
where you're discussing your hatred of American ideals.
- No, Idols! American Idols. I hate them.
They performed "Dancing Queen."
It was a desecration to (shouts)
my favorite band.
- We got you on tape referring to Jafar
as one of the architects of-
- [Rashid] 7-Eleven! It was 7-Eleven!
Jafar, he designs convenience stores.
- 7-Eleven.
Oh. (beep)
- Wilson! 65 dogs just attacked the Capitol building.
- Were they terriers?
- How did you know?
(beep)
- Praise ABBA!
- Johnny.
Okay, Carter.
I can stay here all night.
So why don't you and I cut the crap,
and you tell me what happened on March 15th?
- And what's in it for Carter Finley?
- What's in it for you is I don't send you back to jail.
(ethereal music)
(Carter sighs)
- The guy's name is Cat Branchman.
I met him downtown at a club called the Clutching Kitten.
You may have heard of it.
It's down on the corner of Hang and Fur Street.
- Cat Branchman.
So what's a guy like you and a guy named Cat...
Okay. I know what you're doing, Finley.
You're just using what you see in my poster.
- I'm not, detective.
I'm telling the truth.
- We'll see how much truth you tell
after a few weeks in solitary confinement.
- Fine, detective. You've twisted my arm.
- That's better.
- The guy's name wasn't Cat Branchman.
It was a Chinese guy named Mr. Meow.
He's the real gang boss.
Story went he hung guys from trees
and took pictures of them.
- Finley.
- Used to run a club downtown, a front, of course.
Called it the Paw and Poster.
- Finley!
- Ran it with a guy named Hung In Thar.
- Okay.
Let's try this one more time.
Findley, who do you work for?
- Um.
Coffee. Mr. Coffee Coop.
- Coffee Coop.
- His name was Baldy Tallman Coffee Coop.
- Now, you're just talking about me.
Finley, I'm gonna give you one more chance.
Who is in charge?
- His name was Angry Man.
The warehouse is located in the diploma
for being a detective.
- I want a name.
- Justin. - Thank you!
- Hangtree.
- Don't say hang.
God **** it. Do not say hang.
- Hang. - Nope.
- Hangman Justin Katz.
- Finley!
- Poster.
- Do not say poster or cat.
- Cat poster.
- Okay, that's it!
I'm losing my patience.
Winslow, get this moron outta here.
- I'm...
(ethereal music)
- I'm losing my patience.
Let's try this one more time.
Getting too old for this (beep).
- Well played, detective.
Well played indeed.
- Hey, Carter. You hang in there.
- Good morning.
Clive "Double Down" Ruggins.
I'm Daniel Tate.
I am your parole officer, and I just want to help you.
- How the hell you supposed to help me, man?
What the (beep) you know about the streets,
what with your diplomas on the wall?
- Settle down.
I know that you might not be able to relate to me,
but I think I know somebody who you can relate to.
Little Homie.
- What up?
What up?
It's my favorite Clive. (laughs)
What up, Duke?
- Nah, dog.
Listen. Hey, man, I ain't trying to talk to no puppet, man.
- It's not a puppet. It's Little Homie.
And I would like for you to talk to him, Clive.
See, I used to work in the juvenile correction systems,
and I found this method very effective.
- I ain't no juvenile, man.
Okay?
- He's right! Does he look like a kid to you?
Come on! He's a grown-ass man!
- See?
What?
- Look.
It's very important for your parole
that you talk to Little Homie.
- What's up, Little Homie?
(Little Homie laughs)
- That's better, my nigrumps.
Yeah. What you getting into these days, man?
What it is? What it is?
You got a job yet?
(Clive sighs)
- I'm trying, man, but no one will hire me.
- Yeah. Hey, (beep) all that noise, man.
Between you and me,
man, ain't nobody trying to hide a (beep) with a record.
But hey, man, what you need to be doing
is get back into some crimes, man.
- What, what, what, what, what?
What's going on, man?
- Are you talking to me?
- Yeah.
- Well, you should be talking to Little Homie right now.
- [Clive] What is going on?
- Yeah, *****!
Talk to me.
Look at me when I'm talking to you.
- Okay, okay. Fine.
- ****!
So you smoking weed, (beep)?
- No, man. No, no, Little Homie.
I'm done with drugs.
(Little Homie laughs)
- (beep) I got something.
Uh oh, uh oh, uh oh.
Look at this here, nigrumps.
Smoke this weed!
- No, no, no, no, no, no, man.
I'm done, man.
You hear me?
I'm done with drugs.
I ain't doing all that.
- I don't know.
Little Homie seems pretty serious about that.
- Here!
- Look, I'm confused, man.
What do you want me to do here?
- Well, I want you to clean up your act,
but you're not talking to me right now.
You're talking to Little Homie.
- Now, smoke that (beep),
or I smoke this ***** right here.
- Oh, God.
He's not messing around.
I think you'd better do what he says.
- Okay, okay. All right.
Little Homie, man.
Just relax, man.
Relax, Little Homie. Take it easy.
I'm gonna smoke it down.
Wait, wait.
No, no, no, no, no, no, no.
You can't fool me.
You trying to trick me, man.
No, no. I'm done with the weed.
(gun fires)
- Boom!
(Little Homie laughs)
Catch! (beep)
(Little Homie laughs)
*******!
Now, your fingerprints is on the weapon.
You in this with me now, right?
- Okay, Little Homie. Yeah.
- Hmm.
- Well. - Oh, oh!
- You failed the test.
I have no choice but to revoke your parole.
- What?
- Oh man, ain't this about a *****!
- On your feet, baby boy.
- Get him outta here.
- Come on!
- I can't believe that nigrumps actually thought
I killed you.
- I know, right?
(fingers snap)
- First things first.
I do not care that you are a multi-platinum selling rapper,
Gun Rack.
What I care about is that I 100% know
that you murdered Darnell Simmons,
so you better start talking.
- Yeah. But you ain't got nothing.
- Oh.
You know, actually, I'm very glad that you said that,
because respectfully, I beg to differ.
♪ I killed Darnell ♪
♪ Yeah, I shot him with my nine ♪
♪ I shot him nine times 9:00 PM on the dime ♪
♪ And by the way, it was November 9th ♪
- That don't mean nothing.
I got a vivid imagination.
I couldn't have shot Darnell.
I was at my cousin's birthday party.
Red Lobster, November 9th.
- At Red Lobster?
- Mm-hmm.
- Geez, I gotta tell you, Gun Rack,
I find that really hard to believe.
♪ I got an alibi, birthday, Red Lobster ♪
♪ When in reality, I shot Darnell like a mobster ♪
♪ It's a lot, anyone could tell this ♪
♪ If you know about my allergy to all shellfish ♪
- Just confess, Gun Rack.
- I confess that shellfish is the only thing
that rhymes would tell this.
It's just words, that that there.
Nouns, adjectives.
They just happen to be in a dope order.
But we ain't got no pearl.
♪ Shot up Darnell with a long-ass gun ♪
♪ And tossed it into the aquarium ♪
- I have no idea what that object is.
If I had to identify it, I would call it a gun
of the long-ass variety.
Some seaweed in there, too.
- Look.
- But tiger, I had to break it to you.
I ain't kill nobody.
♪ I stroke my chin real slow when I'm lying ♪
♪ And I was laughing super hard as Darnell was dying ♪
- The name of the album is "I Killed Darnell Simmons."
- It's a concept album.
- A concept...
That's a picture of you, a picture of you,
and behind you is Darnell Simmons' body!
- Coincidence.
- You're going away for a long time, you understand?
You're gonna confess if it's the last thing you ever do.
You hear me, Gun Rack?
I'll beat- - Down!
- He's free to go.
- What? No. No, no, no, no.
We have everything we need.
- No, it was Simmons' girlfriend.
She just confessed to the whole thing.
Infidelity. Crime of passion.
Let's go, Mr. Rack.
♪ Bonus track, bonus track ♪
♪ I gotta ride or die ♪
♪ *****, I think you get the gist ♪
♪ And when you let me out, I'm gonna blow a little kiss ♪
♪ This is my confession, admissible in court ♪
♪ I killed Darnell Simmons for sport ♪
(Gun Rack laughs)
♪ That's right ♪
♪ I'm a murderer, come get me ♪
♪ Come down the hall, you can't get me ♪
Okay, okay. You got me. You got me.
Hey, whoa whoa whoa whoa.
****, ****, ****, ****. Ow! Ow!
(upbeat music)
♪ I want it ♪
♪ But I don't need it ♪