(people chattering faintly) (downbeat orchestral music)
- [Man] Oh, Dushane.
Is this your business?
- No, this is my dad's business.
Perry, him own the place.
(speaking in foreign language)
- All right.
- You got your license cous'.
(engine revving)
- We go in there, we take the money, and we leave.
Yeah?
No one has to get hurt.
(speaking in foreign language)
- Where the money at?
(gun firing)
Money!
Gimme the money!
(gun firing)
(horn blaring)
- I got the people.
I could make you some serious money.
- This is something I already have in abundance.
- Since when can you have too much money?
Yo, I know London.
Yo, what's going on man?
(speaking in foreign language)
(woman breathing heavily)
(gun firing)
- Do you respect Sugar?
(animals chirping)
I said do you respect Sugar?
(whimpering)
- Supplies been dead since the Turks got whacked up.
It's mayhem isn't it?
Every few months, you never know who you're dealing with.
And when someone new comes along, they up the price.
It's gettin' hard to make a livin' out here.
What's going on?
- [Man] How's it goin'?
- Dushane.
(mumbles) Do you know who this is?
(mumbles)
This is Dushane.
Dushane was top G in Summerhouse.
So, what, did you bring any food for us then, top G?
- Rafe, you ain't got no one other than these fucking kids?
- That's it, brev.
- We need more army men.
- Rafe, look,
I thought I would have achieved so much more by now,
you know?
You feel me?
I'm 36 years old.
I ain't got no woman,
no kids,
fucking sleeping on Dris's stinking sofa.
My mom's sick, fam.
And I've got a gangster putting a gun to my head,
telling me he's going to kill my cousin
if I don't come up with the ten bags.
- Doing it again man.
It's always about you, Dushane.
No.
- Never burgled a house before, you know.
(loud thunk)
(door jingles)
- I think there's someone in the house.
- I need to borrow some money, bro.
- Haha, yeah, there it is, yeah.
- Bro hear me out.
- I've had five skin grafts and I'm still in pain
every minute of every fucking day
and you're standing there in front me asking me for money?
You're a joke.
- Fuck you.
- No, fuck you man.
- Fuck you.
(television on)
(suspenseful music)
- Look, your business ain't none of my business,
but I hope you're not thinking out taking our money.
You've got morals, Dushane, I can see that.
(dramatic, upbeat music)
- [Sully] Stick up.
- [Dushane] What are you doing?
- So this thing gone, huh?
- Why does this smell like a fucking brothel?
- Bruv, it's all there.
- Next time it will be double that.
It's all sugies getting serious money.
And serious money is what is expected.
- Brother, we're back.
Enjoy it.
(upbeat rock music)
(chatting)
- Dushane!
- Hey!
- What do you want?
For your life, like what do you want?
- Well, I think that's a leading question.
- Well, if you ever get around to answering it,
you know where to find me.
- Jamie here.
What you want a fruit shooter or something?
- So you think I'm here to get
your permission to shoot food?
You're here to get mine.
What, you ain't notice things have changed?
You're not dealing with Amandem no more.
You're deal with the ZTs.
- Oh shit.
(dramatic music)
- ZT's!
(screaming)
(coughing)
- Less than half my youngers turned out to work
after this acid thing.
And you know they're making up excuses
saying got a patent on the corner.
So what am I supposed to do with them?
- Look at me. I'm being fucking serious.
Shit might get heavy. Keep your head down.
Go to Annie Bernadette's and stay up there
until I tell you, yeah?
(phone ringing)
- Yo, you go to Annie Berna-
who the fuck are you?
- [person on the phone] Who the fuck me be?
- Hey, where's Donovan, man?
Hey take the gun away from his head, what's wrong with you?
Fuck you!
- (crying) please don't.
[Person With Gun] Please don't kill ya?
- [Dushane] It's cool, it's cool bruv.
(gunshot)
Shit!
Fuck!
No!
Fucking no!
No!
(distressing music)
- Hello again.
- What are you doing? Put that down.
Drop the fucking knife.
(clatter)
- Apparently Jamie's been getting a lot more than pussy.
Dark, wet, weed,
spice.
- What do you need?
- Your fucking prick boyfriend off the road.
And you're gonna help us do it.
Do you get me?
- I can supply you with all the drugs you need.
(dark music)
- Forth for Donovan.
(gunshot)
- What is that?
Oh, fuck!
(gunshots)
- Mans lost their supplier.
Got no soldiers.
Everyone got fucking youngers
to move the food that we've already got.
Or I just can't see a way out right now for her.
- Go ahead. Take that.
Pick up the fucking bag.
- Yeah, police.
Just seen two black guys go into a flat on my block.
Spilliton House.
Bruv, they're putting guns in the bag or something.
Like a bright green bag, I don't even know.
You need to get down there quick, yeah.
(upbeat electronic music)
- [Police] Firearm.
- No that's- that's not mine.
I don't know how that got here, that's not mine.
- I wouldn't have told them anything.
It was my bag,
you and Steph had nothing to do with this.
- Bruv, what the fuck are you doing here?
- Judge sees that, drops the case real quick.
You answer my next question right,
send it to your lawyer tonight.
- What's the question?
- After you get out, you come and work for me?
- (scoffs) are you being for real?
- Let me know if you wanna do another 20 years, yeah?
You all right?
- Hi.
- How is she doing?
- She doesn't want to see you, Dushane.
- So what, police?
That's fucking wrong.
And you know it.
- The fuck are you talking about?
Huh?
We fucking won.
- Just because we didn't lose,
doesn't mean we won.
- This guy shouldn't be on our streets.
He should be inside.
For the rest of his life.
(jazz music)