Ill Manors (2012) Movie Script

(Woman on TV)
I had to, I had to put my foot down
'and make my kids do well in school.
'And, and I-I did my best with mine,
'so a lot of these mothers and fathers
has to be blamed for this as well!
'A lot of mother and father! Listen...
'Don't blame the children.
As adults, we should-
'The mother the father, the big people!'
'But, you know, sometimes it cannot be
a good time at all, you know,
'for people who grow up in foster care.
'And, you know, things can happen
to them and they can have a bad time,
'and they can end up, like, you know,
not in a good place, like, mentally,
'and a lot of the time physically,
'so it is a definite bonus to have,
like, a strong family background.
'I'm not saying
it's the be all and end all...'
(Plan B) 'Are you sifting comfortably?
'Well, put your seat belts on
cos you're in for a harrowing ride
'cos this is iLL Manors
where dark shit goes on at night.
'I am the narrator,
the voice that guides the blind,
'follow it not with ears but your mind
'and allow me to take you
back and forth through time
'to explain the significance of things
you may think are insignificant now.
'But won't... further down the line.'
( Drum and bass)
I be that lyrical narrator
Social commentator
Socially commentatin'
What I say is verbatim
Verbal stipulator, oral illustrator
Orally illustrating what I'm stipulatin'
Drugs rule everything around me
Thugs making money
My manor manor's ill, y'all, ill, y'all
Pushers on my block shottin' rocks
This is real, y'all
Bitches sucking cocks for them rocks
Yeah, they're real low
Prozzies on the corner
With their fuckin' high heels on
Pick 'em up, drop 'em off
Yeah, they ride real strong
Crack addicts looking for other addicts
To steal from
Walkin' round wondering
Where they get their next meal from
Cokeheads on their reds
Sniffing up their wages
Dealers on speed dial
Suckin' all their papers
Still on the same number
That they've had for fuckin' ages
SIM card so old the logo's fucking faded
But turn it over
And you see the gold nugget
Reflecting off the light
That shines down above it
Unregistered chip you gotta love it
Pay-as-you-go so the feds don't bug it
Twitter for the streets
If you want tweets
Eleven little digits
And a blower's all you need
Tell me what's your poison
They've got everything from weed
Up to methamphetamine
Everybody, follow me
And join up to their antisocial network
Database of smack, coke
And crack-smoking experts
Without they'd go out of business
They'd no longer get work
So anybody trying to fuck with it
Is gonna get hurt
Lyrical narrator
Social commentator
Socially commentatin'
What I say is verbatim
Verbal stipulator, oral illustrator
Orally illustrating
what we stipulating
- What's happenin', bruv?
- You got that?
- Yeah?
- You enjoy that, yeah?
Fuckin' fat cunt.
Fuckin' waddle, waddle, waddle, waddle.
Who the fuck is this?
- You all right, guys?
- Yeah.
- You got anything?
- Nah. What are you talkin' about?
- Couple of tickets or anything?
- Don't know what you're talking about, bruv.
I'm Tony's mate.
Nah. I don't know Tony, mate.
I don't know no Tony.
(Police siren blares)
Oh, for fuck's...
Aaron! Come on, bruv!
What the fuck!
(Police siren blares)
(Police siren blares)
(Door slams shut)
(Doors slamming shut)
(Phone vibrates)
(Breathes heavily)
You love it, don't ya?
(Knock on the door)
What the... Who the fuck is that?
What's goin' on?
Oh, fuck's sake!
It's 7.30 in the fuckin' morning, man!
I got shit to get to-
I don't give a shit! What, you think
I'm holding this time of fuckin' day?
You got money, have ya?
Is it all there?
Don't make me count it, bruv.
- You got a phone with ya?
- Use Ed's phone.
- What happened to Ed?
- He got fuckin' shifted. Some madness.
- Oh, wanker! The lot of ya!
- Take the phone, bruv!
Let me put another chip in that, son.
Fucking wankers!
Who you picking up off? Chris?
- Chris?
- Yeah.
Don't make me laugh!
I don't pick up anything from Chris!
- Is it?
- All right?
Me and Chris have some business.
I've kept that man in fuckin' business
ever since he was a wee pickney!
If it weren't for me,
that cunt wouldn't be doing anything!
Even when I went away for 15 years!
That's the only reason he's got my turf,
but not for long,
so don't fucking talk to me
about that cunt!
Do you understand me?
(Man) Prisoner GF9093 Kirby Cropper.
One panelled mac.
One forest-green shirt.
One pair of black jeans.
One pair of black Chelsea boots.
One minidisc player. Six discs.
One Nokia mobile phone.
Three items of jewellery.
Sign there for me, please.
(Music stops)
Mr. Drug Dealer
Mr. Drug Dealer
Mr. Drug Dealer
(Plan B) In 1975
There was this chick named Janet
A pregnant heroin addict
Who said she didn't plan it
So never thought to stop
Or ever kick the habit
Cos Kirby let her do it
And she knew he always had it
Down in the cellar with Trevor
Another addict
Who was at it like an asthmatic
Trapped in an attic
Suckin' on an asthma pump
Though you'd never know
By looking at him that's the cunt
Who by 1983 was in the National Front
He had a shaved head
But still got mashed on drugs
So Kirby didn't mind him
Hangin' round that much
Especially any time Janet
Came around to fuck
Get her fix while her kid, Chris
Waited around
'A nine-year-old boy
Who was healthy and loud
Considering when she was pregnant
She was smoking the brown
She was lucky that he wasn't born
Disabled or Down's.
Still, when you're too loud
You get a clap round your head
Kirby ain't his dad
But he does what he says
Stays downstairs
in the cellar with Trev
While Kirby's upstairs
Giving Janet her meds
At least that's what they told Chris
Still he ain't that dumb
He knows Kirby's upstairs
Bangin' his mum
While he's left in the basement
With some racist cunt
Who's been waiting round for ever
For the motherfuckin' day to come
What an environment to raise a kid
Round crack dealers' houses
And racist pricks
Trevor looted the place
As well as maiming Chris
Left a permanent scar on his face
The same as his
With a razor blade
Yeah, it takes the piss
Whether you're prejudiced or not
Man, he's just a kid
But that's what Trevor done
No one ever saw him after that
Six years pass now
Kirby's cookin' up the crack
It's the new drug
Everybody's going crazy for
1989 the year Chris
started selling draw
Picking up from Kirby
Scar there beneath his eye
You'd think that after everything
That's happened he would treat him right
Not par him off
With just another ounce of weed
Cos a quarter of the bag
Is a bunch of fuckin' seeds
Hundreds of 'em
And twigs the size of fuckin' trees
But if he ever moaned
He'd get a slap across his cheek
1990 is the year that really took its toll
Cos that's the year his mother Janet
Took an overdose of heroin and died
God rest her tortured soul
Now he's left to fend for himself
All by his own
It's 1995
Now that he's older
Stress weighs on his shoulders
Heavy as bolders
But he hides it from his olders
He's been living on the far side
Since he was a yoot
But the way he lives now is a far cry
From the way he did in the past
Cos he's made his way out
From sellin' ounces to bars of weed
Out in the streets
Where people do their nasty deeds
He sees they're making money
So he wants a larger piece...
(Shouts) You fuckin' little cunt!
What do you think you're doing? Hey?
That's our bread and butter,
that is!
Take that. Here you are.
Go on. Fuck off!
It's all there.
And I've canned it an' all.
So, where was you last night?
I was groaning my fuckin' tits off!
Hurry up. He's getting the gear.
(Kirby) Get off me!
You're under arrest for the possession
of class-A drugs.
You do not have to say anything,
but it may...
Come on, Kirbs. Time to go.
(Child sobs)
(Knocks on the door)
(Man 2) Who's that?
(Door squeaks)
He's in the back.
Let's sort it out.
- All right, Chris?
- What's goin', Kirbs?
- I've come for my stuff, bruv.
- Yeah. Cool, brother.
- You got it, yeah?
- Of course I've got it.
- You all right?
- Yeah, good. I always am, ain't I?
Always good.
- Just put it down on the table.
- No, take it, bruv. Count it!
I don't touch money no more.
Put it down on the table.
You're too big for money now?
All right. So, come on, man.
I've gotta go.
Turn my back for five minutes, innit?
Hey! Just... Cool.
Chris, what are you doin', man?
Don't fuck about with me. Give me my gear.
There it is! There it is! Oi!
Bruv, just give me my gear,
will ya?
- I thought you was in a rush, bruv-
- I am in a rush!
Listen. Listen, my friend.
I've been away a little while
and before I went away,
carrying the can for everyone,
I had people like you running round
selling twigs and seeds for me.
Do you remember runnin' round
with little batty boy and them?
Right, when I had you
running around for me, right,
did I take the fuckin' piss?
You might have been sellin' twigs
and seeds, but I still looked after you.
- Now give me the fuckin'...
- You cunt!
Kirby, just relax!
- Get the fuck...
- Kirby, relax!
- Get the fuck off me!
- Relax yourself!
- Get off me! You fucking little cunt!
- Just relax yourself!
Listen! Give me my fuckin' gear!
Let go of my fuckin' head!
- Give me my gear! I've got shit to do!
- Relax yourself!
Get off me, you cunt!
You're hurting my neck!
- Oh!
- Fuck you! Fuck you!
(Laughs) Here you are, Kirbs!
- My fucking neck!
- Oh!
You fucking wanker!
- Kirby...
- What's wrong with ya?
Funny, innit?
You'll be laughing the other side
of your fuckin' ugly mush... soon enough.
Look what you've done to my glasses,
you cunt! I'm shaking like a fuckin' leaf!
- (Laughs)
'Yea funny, innit (?)
- Oh!
- You're a cunt.
See ya later, Kirbs.
(Man 3) Marcel, come on, bruv...
Every fuckin' time, man.
- Wait.
- Where's the dough, bruv?
- I don't know.
- Hurry up.
I'll sort it, bruv. I'll sort it.
Come on, man.
I'll sort it out for you next time.
Where's the dough?
Where's the money?
Why you makin' me beg
every time I want my shit, man? Fuck!
- Remember you owe me money, yeah?
- I'll sort it out for you next time.
(Shouts) You! Come!
Fuck off, you! Fuck off!
Get over there!
What have I fucking told you?
What the fuck have I told you
about selling shit on my turf?
How many times have I got to tell ya?
Now get your fuckin' clothes off.
Get 'em off!
I can't take my clothes off, man.
Get your fucking clothes off!
What's wrong? Don't you understand
English or something? You little cunt!
Now get 'em off!
Get the fucking things off!
Pussy Clark, you.
That's it.
Come on. Get your boxers off.
Get 'em off!
Do it, man!
I wanna see your knob!
Is that what you fuckin' call it?
You cunt!
Go on. Fuck off! FUCK OFF! Go!
What's wrong with you?
Go on!
(Voice mail) 'The mobile number
you have called may be switched off.'
(Man 4) How long you gonna
keep me in here for?
Open the door!
Open the fuckin' door!
You can't keep me in here this long!
(Man 5) Oi, mate, will you please shut up?
You haven't stopped all fucking day!
(Man 4) Who the fuck are you, cunt, eh?
I'll out your fuckin' throat, man!
(Man 5) Ooooh!
(Man 4) What you don't believe me?
I'm out of Brixton.
I'm out of fucking south-
(Man 5) Ooooh!
(Man 4) What, you making noises
now, yeah?
Is that all you can do? Make fuckin' noises!
Make the noise again, cunt! Go on!
Yeah, see. You fucking won't, will ya?
You know the-
(Man 5) Oooooh!
(Man 4) All right, that's it.
See, when I get out-
I'm gonna wait for you, mate.
(Man 5) Didn't your mummy and daddy
love you when you was a kid?
(Man 4) Are you
some fucking philosophiser, mate?
(Man 5) Siftin' here?
That's why you're so angry, mate!
(Man 4) Who are you talking to, mate?
Carry on, cunt! Go on!
(Man 5) Your mother was a prostitute!
(Man 4) Listen to me! Oi, fucking listen!
Open this fucking door!
(Man 5) Hey!
That's why no one fucking loves ya, mate.
(Man 4) Shut up! You fucking cunt!
I swear I'll get you.
(Man 5) Who do you send
the Father's Day card to?
You don't know him, do ya?
(indistinct shouting)
(Man 5) No one likes you!
No one loves you!
(Man 4) Open the door!
Open the fucking door!
Huh? Well, bell me when you
fucking see him then, innit, bruv?
Can you put your phone down?
We need to speak to you.
Oh, fuck's sake!
- All right...
- Put your phone down, please.
- Hands out of your pockets.
- Don't fucking touch me!
Stop swearing and take your hands
out of your pockets.
I will tell you when we're done, OK?
- Hey, what's going on?
- Do you know this person?
- Yeah, I do. What's he done wrong?
- It's a routine check, OK?
- I ain't done nothing.
- Aaron, just shut up, all right?
And who are you exactly?
My name's Jo Lloyd.
I work in social care for the council.
And I used to be his social worker.
It looks like it's your lucky night.
Maybe your social worker
can teach you some manners.
Yeah... Fucking pigs!
- Oi! Can you just shut up?
- What?
I'm standing here, making a fucking
phone call, minding my own business...
- They start harassing me for no reason.
- Yeah, all right. They've gone now.
What you doing here, anyway?
You were meant to be
meeting me today.
Oh, shit!
Some madness happened. I've been
sorting it. I've been stressed. Sorry.
Forget about it. That came for ya.
I don't want that.
You don't have to open it now, do you?
Just take it.
- I don't wanna open it ever.
- Please. Just take it.
One day you might feel differently.
Humour me. Take it.
Thank you.
Anyway, stay out of trouble, yeah?
Oh, and... take that hat off.
And maybe the old bill will leave you alone.
Yeah, I doubt it.
- Fuck!
- (Ed) Yes, yes!
Yeah, yeah.
- What the fuck are these lot doin' out here?
- Huh?
What the fuck are them lot doin'?
What's goin' on?
- Nothin', man.
- You all right?
- They charge you?
- Nah. Still kept me overnight. What's this?
- Just a little piece, innit?
- Where's the rest?
Back at the spot.
I ain't gonna fuckin' walk around with it.
- Let's fuckin' blitz, bruv. Got my phone?
- Nah, I'm getting' it now.
- What do you mean you're getting it now?
- Huh?
- Where's my phone, bruv?
- I let Kirby use it to make a call, innit?
So it's at Kirby's house?
Some crackhead
must have took it out of the house.
- Some crackhead took it out the house?
- Yeah. I know who she is.
I ask you to do one fucking thing for me
and you lost my phone?
- Just use my phone and-
- Why am I gonna use your phone, hm?
How are my cats gonna call your phone
when they don't know your number?
Kirby's bellin' me now. Yeah?
Yeah. Is it definitely her?
What's goin' on?
She better be there
when I come down.
What the fuck is going on, bruv?!
Safe. Bruv, it's there.
Shall we go and sort it out?
She's got my phone?
On her right now?
- Yeah, let's go!
- Come on!
- What have I fucking done to you?
- Don't fucking talk to me, bruv!
Don't fucking talk to me!
(Girl) a half hour.
Look at all these fuckers.
We go back a week early
and they're all chillin', like...
- Oi, Jody...
- What?
- How old are you?
- 15. Why?
- One more year till I can fuck you then.
- Fuck off, man!
Fuck, man.
- Safe, man.
- All right. Cool, yeah?
- You get the dough?
- Yeah. It's my mum's.
I feel bad, innit?
- I told you I'll pay you back later.
- But how are you gonna to get the money?
I told you. I'll just rob someone, innit?
What if you don't find anyone?
My mum will be angry if I can't-
- Wanna get some weed or not?
- Yeah!
Well, then trust me, innit?
I'll only be a minute!
- You change your clothes?
- No.
Yes, you did. You was wearin'
the Black King tracksuit earlier.
I spilt something on it. What's the problem?
I can't change my clothes.
- What did you spill on it?
- Nurishment.
Safe, man.
What the fuck's wrong with you?
Can't see I'm talking? You dickhead!
- What do you want?
- I want some weed.
Does it look like
a man's blotting over here?
Come on, man.
Why are you always darkin' me for?
- Where's the money?
- It's here, man.
I want some weed, man.
- What weed?
- So why did you take the 20 then?
What 20? I didn't see no 20.
Hey, get off me, man!
He's a yoot, man. He's gonna start crying.
Give him a chance, man.
Allow me, man.
I just want my weed, man.
Allow it, man. Come on, man.
- All right. You want some weed, yeah?
- Yeah.
- You want weed?
- Yeah.
Where's your...?
Is he your 9'-IV?
Your guy over there.
Your guy with the beat-up Astroturfs.
That's not my friend, man.
That's not my guy.
I got him to steal the money from his mum
so I could pick up the draw, innit?
- So he's not your guy, no?
- No.
Go over there and smash him in
and I'll give you your weed.
He-he's not your guy. Go on. Do it.
Man, I can't do that, man.
Bruv, he's done told you! Go smack
him up and you'll get your shit, man!
So you gonna do it?
(indistinct chatting)
Get the fuck out of here,
you dickhead! You pussyhole!
Move, man! You fuckin' idiot!
That's why you get parred!
Cos you roll with man like that!
What the fuck do you think this is?
Just allow it, bruv. Look at him, man.
- Nah, man. He's been coming around...
- Come on, bruv. Look.
He's baitin' me up, bruv.
You got bait. Fucking bait...
Let's be honest now.
You lot, shut up, man.
Have you got the weed?
(Boy) 'Bang him in the back!'
(indistinct shouting)
Bang him, man!
(Boy) He's still runnin'! He's still runnin'!
You lot are hard.
That's what I'm talkin' about, bruv.
That's how we move.
Come on, man. Let's talk!
Yo, now you're rollin' with me, yeah?
April, come here.
- We gotta change these clothes, though.
- Why?
They're not working.
They're too bright. You stand out.
See why I'm always in black?
People can't pick me out.
Don't worry, man.
We're gonna go shoppin'.
Get you some new garms,
go to the shops and get you some pussy.
You feel me?
Playing with fire
It doesn't burn
The first time your hand
Warms to the flame
Playing with fire...
Bitter and sweet, oh, no
Scorching skin now
Hell on its way
Playing with fire...
(Marcel) Bruv, I'm tellin' you that party
was off the chain, bro.
Nah, fuck that, bruv.
Did you see that...?
Oi, what did you do with that girl.
Did you fuck her?
What girl?
What the ting you was
all loved up on?
What you on about, man?
- You dickhead!
- Shut up and come on!
(Kisses teeth)
Nah, but that party was still sick, though.
(indistinct chatting)
(Pigeons flapping)
(Breathing heavily)
- You dickhead!
- What the fuck is that smell, man?
- You fucking idiot!
- He pissed himself.
Jammin' in your own piss, you pussyhole!
Stop fucking moving, you dickhead!
OK. Look at this fuckin' pussyhole!
'Look in the camera!'
(Music starts)
Right, I'm goin' for a piss.
(Sobs) Please, man...
You think you can pick up drugs off me,
long me off and go to someone else?
Where the fuck is my money?
(Plan B) J' He's just a kid
But he feels like the man today
He joined a gang today
Been at a house party around the way
Doing illegal shit but he's just a kid
Still he's in luck today
He got a fuck today
Yeah, he bust his very first nut today
In some stupid bitch
Today's moving quick
So quick if you wear the wrong shoes
You'll slip
Better keep up with the tempo
With the click
Cos they on some sick shit, bruv
Kidnapping wannabe rich-kid thugs
And no doubt now Jake's only mission
Is to better his position in Marcel's gang
It's a competition
To a little man with a disposition
Holier than thou he was born a Christian
All he worships now is the nihilism
Wise men will tell you
That with age comes wisdom
And you can't be saved by religion
Unless you have faith
So it makes no difference to the youths
That are raised in the system
Who don't have age on their side
Or any positive role models in their lives
That provide insight
So they ain't gonna listen
As for Jake
He's already made his decision
Now he's just another poster boy
For David Cameron's Broken Britain
Shut up! Don't speak back!
You pussyhole!
Man up, fam!
(Boy 2) Fuckin' pussyhole! Look at him!
Oi, come on. Let him have a drink.
His cousin's coming to bring the money.
Where's your fuckin' heart?
He's been here for fuckin' two days!
It's fuckin' piss!
You fuckin' bitch! You fucking...
That's what I'm sayin'!
All right, all right!
Playing with fire
It doesn't burn
The first time your hand
Warm to the flame
Playing with fire
Bitter and sweet, oh, no
Scorching skin now
Hell on its way
You're playing with
You're playing with fire...
Oi! Come here!
It doesn't burn
The first...
Sit down here, you.
Right, where you been?
- I've been round your house.
- In my house?
- Yeah.
- And where were you going to?
To get you that bio-carbonate stuff,
so you can wash your stuff.
- You ain't got it yet?
- So you can clean your stuff, man.
So you've cleaned the house, yeah?
Is that Michelle still there, is she?
Or did she go?
Erm... She left after you.
Did she?
I don't trust her, though.
I think there's something about that girl.
What do you mean? What's wrong
with her? No one trusts you, do they?
No one trusts you!
You're a crackhead. She's crackhead.
No one trusts 'em.
And you're a smackhead crackhead
like her.
You're both like two peas in a pod.
So just leave her alone.
She's a good shag, anyway.
And you ain't, are ya?
Well, you're not, are ya?
Look at ya. You know where
the chemist is, don't ya?
- It's down the road.
- You're not with it, are ya?
- Yeah-
- Get a fucking grip!
What have you got to ask for?
Know what you're picking up?
- Bio-carbonate-
- Bio? Bio...
Bio-carbonate of soda,
so you can wash your stuff.
I'm just gonna fetch that.
"Bicarbonate" of soda. If you can't
even say it, how are you gonna get it?
You'd come back with washing powder,
wouldn't ya?
Bio-carb... Bicarb soda.
I don't want any detergent, all right?
I want a simple thing, bicarbonate of soda!
It comes in a little fucking tin like that!
Not in a big box like that
with "Daz" written on it, or whatever!
OK? And if you don't fucking
sort it out...
Listen! It's no good
fucking laughing. Prick!
It's no good laughing!
You want another fix,
what you gonna fucking do?
- I'm clucking, Kirby.
- Get the fuck out of here!
Look, just drink your tea
and pick up what I want.
- Bi...
- I'll get it!
Carbonate... of... soda.
All right.
I don't want that.
He's breathed all over it.
Did you tell her we were here?
Obviously, bruv. She's my friend.
I'm goin', cos me and her
don't talk like that.
- Oi, don't go, man. Don't go.
- No, I can't be bothered.
Oi, what about your food, bro?
(Kisses teeth)
- Thank you.
- Who ordered this?
- She did.
- Just eat it, man. Don't worry about it.
Er, excuse me?
Oi, do I know you?
- No.
- Nah.
- You look familiar.
- Really?
You know what they say
about a familiar face.
What do they say?
They say they're the most beautiful people
in the world. Like models and all that.
- Oh, yeah?
- Yeah. Thought of doin' any modeling?
- Nah.
- Why not? You've got the legs for it.
- You think so?
- Yeah! I know so!
And you have.
You'd be a win double, wouldn't ya?
Oh, that sounds nice!
- Yeah, my mate would like you.
- Oh, yeah?
Who's your mate?
Er, his name's Nigel.
He works for... a modeling agency.
You gotta meet him.
Harvey, got a pen and a piece of paper,
mate, please? That's my number.
- Don't give it out to anyone, all right?
- OK.
- You promise?
- Promise.
You'll be in trouble if you do...
Nah, only joking!
All right, see ya later.
- Promise?
- Promise.
You can't break a promise, you know.
(Mouths) Ooh, very nice.
- Is that the bitch who stole my phone, bruv?
- Yeah, that's her.
It's warm right now. The feds are doin'
rounds up and down. Let me deal with it.
(Police sirens blare)
- Where the fuck is my boy's phone, huh?
- What phone?
Don't fucking "what phone?" me.
I saw you at fucking Kirby's.
You was there just before me.
Where the fuck is it? Bring it out.
- I mean, what type of phone?
- How many phones you rob today?
Had my shit out on the table.
When I put it back in my bag,
I must have picked it up by mistake.
- Where the fuck is it now?
- At my mate's house.
- Where?
- Just round the corner!
- All right! I'll take you now!
- Yeah! Come on then. Now!
Oi! What you fuckin' doin' up there?
Oi! What the fuck
are you doing up there?
- Paul, can I have the fucking phone?
- I ain't got it, mate.
Give me that phone!
Sit the fuck down, bruv.
Sit down, you cunt!
What the fuck you playin' at, huh?
- I put it in there!
- It ain't in there now, is it?
- Checked them downstairs?
- No.
Come on then!
What are you playin at?
My boy's a mad boy, you know!
I can't control him!
What's goin' on, bruv?
What the fuck is goin' on, bruv?
Start runnin' their pockets, innit?
Bring out a fuckin' silver phone!
- What the fuck is goin' on?
- I'm gettin' your phone back.
Come here!
You're getting my phone back, are ya, huh?
Sit the fuck down!
- I know someone.
- Oh, now you know!
Fuck that!
- She says she knows someone, all right?
- Oi, stand up!
Come on. Move that way.
Are you up for it?
Bruv, are you gonna let her
do this for you?
This was her idea.
How else is she gonna pay me back?
She's a fucking crackwhore, bruv.
Are you blind?
- I'm just sayin'.
- What?
Just sayin' we ain't lickin' shots out here.
We're prostituting out a girl.
- Let's go.
- Yeah? Come.
Yeah? We'll just leave now
and you can pay me back.
You can have a grand for me
by tomorrow, yeah?
We'll do that then, yeah?
Oh, fuckin' hell!
He's not interested.
Let's just go somewhere else.
That dirty cunt's not interested?
- He's not up for it.
- Are you fuckin' mad?
What's the matter, boss?
You're not interested?
- What, she's no good?
- It's too much.
How much you got?
Fuck it. Give it to me.
Fuckin' cheapskate cunt!
- He's waitin' for ya.
- But he just said...
Get the fuck in there!
Fuckin' score, bruv!
Don't tell me you made her
go in there for 20 fucking pound?
That's all he was payin'. What?
(Plan B) She was once a princess
But now she's a mess
A fiend for a fix like the rest
Soliciting sex from pocketless
But she was a sweet thing nevertheless
Back in the day
Sexually abused as a child
She was always likely to
End up this way
The past lived
In the dark parts of her brain
And only heroin was there
To take away the pain
So she folded the foil and lit the flame
Inhale, exhale out once again
She's on the game
They all know her face
And the standard going rate
Just not her name
With only herself to blame
She lives this hell
But there's a million other girls
Just like Michelle
Out in the streets
With nothin' else to sell
To these desperate males
Other than themselves
So it's no wonder she's a thief to boot
On a constant search
For things that she can loot
What it's worth to her
And what it's worth to you
And the other way round
Vice versa's true
Cos she's an addict
And she's gotta support her habit
And she'll resort to all sorts of antics
Thieving's an impulse
She's always at it
It's automatic
She spares no thought about it
I've been dragging myself
To the lowest low
For such a while
I just don't know
That the path I take
Is somethin' I can change
But what gets in my way
Is the deepest shame
Is the deepest shame...
What do you think of that, boss?
You like it?
Yeah. How much?
- 20.
- No, that's too expensive.
You know what? Fuck it.
10 and a kebab, yeah?
Bring her through, man.
Come here!
What's the matter?
Are you shy now, hm?
Get the fuck in there, man!
Where's my money, man?
Take her through, man.
Where's the money, boss?
And where's my kebab?
Yo! Come through, bruv!
You hungry?
- Eat up, bruv.
- Yeah, I'll eat.
What, man?
- You're gonna feed my friend, yeah?
- Give me a doner kebab, yeah?
- Doner kebab.
- Yeah. Chilli, mayo, a bit of onion.
Chilli, mayo and onions.
There's 800 here. There's meant
to be a grand. There's four of us.
There's five.
- You've gotta be kiddin' me.
- Yeah.
(Shouting and laughter)
Give that to them two.
Jake! Get in the front seat, man.
Ci, yo! Yo!
Where you goin'? How the fuck
am I supposed to get home?
(Dog barks in the distance)
(Engine stops)
You like how we roll, yeah?
Yeah, definitely, man.
You see that P today?
That's nothing.
We make that every day.
More. Triple that.
You ready to roll, yeah?
It's not no dickhead ting.
Obviously, man.
I'm down to ride in that. No brainer, innit?
You're my older.
I'll do anything for you, innit?
Yeah. So you're down, yeah?
Definitely, man.
Open the glove compartment.
(Whispers) Oh, that is somethin'.
Don't just stare at it. Pick it up.
Pick it up!
Hold that.
You feel that, yeah?
That's power.
You know who lives there?
- Yeah.
- Yeah?
I want you to do something. You on it?
On it, man. I'll do anything, man.
I'll just go in there
and give them the gun straight.
Give him the gun?
I want you to put a fucking bullet
in his head, not give him the gun!
Are you gonna do it?
I don't even know
if I'm gonna be able to do that.
What do you mean you dunno
if you're gonna be able to do that?
What the fuck do you think this is?
You think you can roll round with me all day
and then when shit gets deep,
you wanna duck out?
What so you can run and tell
your pussyhole bredrens what I do?
You know what I'm about, bruv!
Go in there
and put a fuckin' bullet in his head,
or am I gonna have
to fuckin' put one in you?
That hurts.
I don't fuckin' care if it hurts!
Are you gonna do it?
Talk to me, bruv!
Are you gonna do it?
- Yeah.
- Yeah?
Fuckin' put that on!
Hurry up!
Put the ting on, man!
Look at me!
Take the ting, nuh?
Take the ting!
Don't worry about the food. Hurry up!
(Marcel) 'Go in...
'Go in there...
'Go in there
and put a fuckin' bullet in his head!
'Bullet in his head.
'Or am I...
'Am I gonna to have
to fuckin' put one in you?'
(Gunshot and screaming)
I'm sorry! I'm sorry!
(Doorbell rings)
(Whispers) For fuck's sake.
Oh, shit!
- Hello, girls!
- (Girl 2) You all right?
Or should I say "ladies"? Look at you!
Yeah, go through.
Make yourself at home.
You got a nice place, don't ya?
- Have trouble geftin' here?
- No, not at all.
It's a bit dirty. I had my mate clean it up.
We was partyin' last night.
Anyway, what can I get you to drink?
- I got... I've got some vodka.
- I'll have a vodka.
- Do you want orange with it?
- Yeah, I'll have it with orange.
- And you? Vodka?
- Just water.
- Sure?
- Yeah.
I don't think I've got any ice.
Is that all right?
- (Both) Yeah.
- Yeah? All right.
This guy's house, bruv.
I don't even wanna be here.
Look at this boozy gaff!
And you're telling me this is the guy?
This is the guy
that discovered Naomi Campbell?
He did not discover her. His bredren did.
What's wrong with you?
So you're tellin' me
his bredren's comin' here to see us?
- Why would he lie to us?
- Why would he lie?
Cos he's a fucking crackhead!
That's why he'd lie!
- You're always gassed!
- I'm telling you!
All right.
- You all right, yeah? Here. Vodka.
- Thank you.
Tell me if it's too strong,
or you want a bit more orange.
- Water for you, the lightweight!
- Yep, the lightweight!
- What you tryin' to say?
- You're right there!
You're cryin' like a pussyhole! That's
why people think you're a dickhead!
- All right! Fuck it! Give me a drink.
- Go on then!
- Have my one. Have my one.
- Thanks.
(indistinct chatting)
- What's goin' on?
- What's happenin', Ed?
How's things?
What's that?
Were you smacked by a midget?
- What's happened?
- You want one, too?
I'll bash you one. Yeah?
- Do you want a drink?
- Funny cunt!
- Do you want a drink?
- What do you think of that over there?
- Yeah, I see her come in earlier.
- Who is that? Your lady?
Got two funny cunts, haven't we?
Morecambe and fuckin' Wise, innit?
Pricks. Listen... What do you fancy?
Hm? You wanna go?
What, are you workin' her then,
are ya?
Listen, I'm tryin' to get in and out
of here as quick as fuckin' possible.
Well, cut to the chase.
What do you want for it?
- A pinkie each?
- Behave yourself!
- You're havin' a laugh, ain't ya?
- That's pro fuckin' meat there, bruv.
- Fillet of fuckin' steak.
- Yeah, right!
- Spare ribs!
- Tesco fuckin' Value!
Fellas, I wanna get out of here. I'm tired.
I've had a long fuckin' day, all right?
All right. I'll give you a bull's-eye
for both of us. Yeah?
- That's how it is, yeah?
- A bull's-eye for a dog.
All right, mate.
Fuck it. Come here.
- Well, go on.
- Come here!
You like them, do ya?
(Mutters and whispers)
So where's Nigel?
Yeah, where's this Nigel
gonna make a model then, yeah?
He'll be here in a little while.
He's a busy man.
So... you know he's here there
and everywhere, but he will be here.
(Doorbell rings)
Could be him!
Ooh, Nigel!
- Yeah, I'll believe it when I see it.
- Whatever, Jody.
- (Man 6) I'm lookin' for my phone.
- Nah. It ain't 'ere.
I had Kurt clean the place up earlier,
because we partied last night, didn't we?
- For fuck's sake!
- So, you know...
I left it in here or on the table
in the kitchen.
Look at these ladies. Sit down. Listen!
It had all my work numbers in it, mate!
Fuck's sake!
- And you've looked everywhere?
- Yeah!
- You got any gear?
- Yeah.
- Are you Nigel?
- Yeah?
The modeling scout
that discovered all the top models.
He's meant to be here tonight.
(Coughs) Do I look like someone
who mucks about with models?
Nah. Nah, love. I'm Terry.
Well, I'm Chanel
and this is my girl Jody, innit?
- You all right?
- All right? Yeah.
- Is that crack?
- Oi, don't ask about that shit, bruv!
- Can I try some?
- Yeah, course you can.
Can you try some?
Am I a dickhead?
Why you going all stupid for?
Cos you bring me here
to meet some guy "Nigel"
that ain't even fuckin' here, yeah.
And now you wanna do crack.
Am I a prick?
I just wanna try a bit, innit?
- If your brother knew you was here!
- Shut up!
- Who's your brother?
- Nobody.
(Jody) Do you know Chris?
Chris what? Chris who?
Big mixed-race guy
from South Court estate.
Nah... Nah.
I thought you knew everyone
round here.
I do! But I've been away
for a long time.
- How long?
- Longer than you've been born.
Ah! Fuckin' result!
Fuckin' hell. Hold up!
(Raps) Hey, yo, we're still out here
In the bits
She's still in there
Geftin' jizz on her tits
Hey, yo, when it comes to shottin'
'm the top of the class
She's on the top of the class
Of geftin' fucked in her arse
Now she bleedin' out her bum...
Oh, fucking hell, bruv.
After I beat the shit out of her, bruv
She best run, run, run
Open her eye, bust a little come...
Nah, that's not the one!
That's not the one.
That's the one, bruv!
She still owes us, man.
(Mobile rings)
Bruv, that's your number!
- What the fuck you talkin' about?
- That's your number, bruv!
- Huh?
- It's Terry, bruv.
- Hello?
- Where the fuck is Terry?
What the fuck's goin' on?
Bruv, I'm down at the Earl of Essex.
Bruv, come down now.
- Is he at home?
- I-I'm outside, bruv.
I'm in the fuckin' street, bruv!
Just come down now, bruv, yeah?
C-Come now.
Bruv, you ain't gonna believe this, bruv!
My phone's been at Kirby's
this whole time!
It fell down the back of the sofa!
- What the fuck, bruv?
- What?
So what you slappin' me about for?
We've been whorin' out this girl
for no fuckin' reason! You know that?
That's off key!
(Breathing heavily)
You want a drink?
Yeah, I need a pint after that.
I've just lost one!
A fucking large one.
You can have one, an' all.
You fucking whore.
(indistinct chatting)
I'm gonna go and get me blower.
Leave the door on the latch.
(Kirby) All right, sweet.
- Bruv, it don't matter.
- We're givin' her the money back.
- Fuck that!
- Yeah, fuck that.
She never took your phone!
- Fuck her! She took someone's phone.
- She never done nothin' to you!
- Bruv-
- She didn't take your phone, innit?
Fuck her.
How much more do I owe?
- How much more do I owe?
- You don't owe nothin'. Go then.
Move. Just go, innit?
- What?
- Just go.
What's goin' on?
(Sighs) Go on. Give it back then, bruv.
- Shut the fuck up!
- Give it to her!
Shut up, bruv. Leave it out, man.
Fuckin' leave it out. What's happenin'?
- Here's your phone. Where's mine?
- Fuckin' hell.
- Where's my one?
- What you talkin' about?
- Where's my phone?
- You must have mine.
- What you talkin' about, bruv?
- Well, where's my phone?
What the fuck!
You think I've got your phone?
Well, someone's got my phone!
- You left your phone at Kirby's?
- Yeah!
And you didn't thief my phone, no?
- What, she took my phone?
- No!
- She took my phone?
- I didn't take your phone!
- You fuckin' took my phone?
- No!
I took his phone and I paid him back!
Nah, nah, nah, nah. Listen, yeah?
- This is my phone, yeah?
- Yeah.
She must have took your phone!
Fuck her!
I didn't take your fuckin' phone,
you stupid cunt!
Who you callin' a cunt?
Who you callin' a cunt?
(indistinct shouting)
- Oi!
- Get down here!
- Give me the fuckin' money!
- Fuck that!
- Give me the money!
- Get out of my face, bruv!
I ain't tryin' to disrespect you, yeah.
That's off key!
- That's off key!
- Why do you care about her, bruv?
- Who the fuck is she? Your sister?
- Is it your money?
- Whose fucking money is it?
- It's not your money!
Who the fuck are you talking to?
First, get your fucking hands of me.
Listen! Who's fucking holding
the money?
Not you! Yeah?
So whose money is it, hm?
Fuck her! She's a fucking crackwhore!
That's why she's in this mess, man!
- Get up! Get up!
- I didn't do anything!
- Lend it to me, innit?
- Lend this money to you?
If it's your money. That's fucked up!
Don't fucking move!
- You want me to lend this?
- That's your money.
Shut your fucking crying up!
Shut your crying up!
You're a fucking pussyhole!
Oi! Oi! Oi! Oi! Oi!
- What the fuck!
- What?
- Take the money.
- I don't want no fucking money!
What if I wanna take her down a dark
alley and give her a fucking belting?
- What about that?
- She's dirty, bruv. Take it.
- Just take the money, yeah?
- You cunt!
Now, get UP-
Get up, get up, get up.
Yeah? Get the fuck out of here now.
Fucking pussy, man.
Any madness. Any given day
some next madness. You know that?
Why are you geftin' emotional, man?
Shut up.
You bring me here and do that shit
in front of me. Am I a dickhead?
You're some prick.
You're some pussyhole.
I'm a pussyhole
cos I'm not doing crack?
- Yeah.
- All right. Fuck it! Do your ting.
Do you wanna do it or not?
You ever done this before?
- Nah.
- All right. Just watch me, yeah?
Easy. Don't smoke it too fast.
Lift it up.
Don't tip the bloody rock out!
Did you get that?
It didn't kill me, did it?
(Jody screams)
I'm sorry! I'm sorry!
Chanel! Chanel! Wake up, please!
(Engine starts)
No, please! No!
Fucking hell!
Do you want some action?
- What you got on offer?
- I'm good for it, you know.
Bruv, you see that?
Bruv, you see that?
- Do you want me?
- How much?
- 50 quid.
- 50 quid?
We'll go round this corner.
Bang it, bang it
Bump it, dump it, scorch it, torch it
Crash and burn it
Don't return it
Lost deposit, let 'em earn it
Who cares?
It's on the firm
It's a hire car, baby
(Cheering and applause)
(indistinct chatting)
Safe, dude.
- You all right?
- Course I'm fucking good.
Take those, will ya? Thank you.
(Man 7) All right, bruv. What you sayin'?
- What are you up to, then?
- Just jammin', innit?
Just jammin', yeah?
Not serving up gear in my pub?
- How am I serving up gear?
- What, you think I'm fucking stupid?
What, you're in and out of the toilet
like four times in ten minutes?
- I wasn't calling you stupid.
- No?
Search me. I'm not serving up.
(Man 7) Let's have a drink.
Let's talk about it.
I'm just giving my boy something...
Here's one I wrote
for a special occasion.
It's called 'Pity the Plight of Young
Fellows'. Do you wanna hear it?
- (All) Yeah.
- Do you wanna hear it?
(Shout) Yeah!
Pity the fate of young fellows
Too long a bed with no sleep
With their complex romantic attachments
Oh, look on their sorrows and weep
They don't get a moment's reflection
There's always a cloud in their eye
Pity the plight of young fellows
Regard all their worries and cry
Their Christian mothers were lazy perhaps
Leaving it up to the school
Where the moral perspective
Is hazy perhaps
And the climate oppressively cool
Give me one acre of cellos
Pitched at some distant regret
Pity the fate of young fellows
And their anxious attempts to forget
These are the tears of a thug
Like murky water
Crying tears as clear as mud
For his father's daughter
His half-sister
He felt obliged to support her
Since her mum was poor
And her dad died even poorer
Separated until she was eight years old
He knew as soon as he saw her
That he adored her
Now he's payin' for her blood
with a borer
And an automatic weapon
Smith & Wesson
Split a fucking hole in your chest
He's looking to corner the perpetrators
Responsible for her killing
He's gonna murder every single
fuckin' one of them, God willing
It's eating him inside
Although you wouldn't be able to tell
By just looking in his eyes
Cos his tears cry inwards
Years of hiding his true feelings
From the streets
Have left him incapable of showing
Any other emotion than anger
So when Jody takes him
To Fat Mick's motors where Terry works
He don't ask questions first
Just straight bangs up
Mans with the butt of the gun
Turns it on Terry before he can run
And demanding answers
He knows Terry didn't kill Kirby
But he thinks he may have set him up
J' Why else would he have taken
The drugs afterwards?
Terry tries to explain
They were already dead when he got there
And the other girl, he can't remember
Her name but she was not there
Not there when he came back
Was before he went out
Chris stops him there
Arms stretched with the leng out
He says, "I know about the other girl
How the fuck do you think I found you?
"And I know you're fuckin' lying
So say your prayers now"
You fucked with the wrong gangster
And now you've gotta pay
J' That's when the blood-stained crackhead
He gun-butted on the way to Fat Mick's
Taps him on the shoulder
With a bust nose and fat lip
And says he knows
Who might have done it...
I was geftin' a rock off Marcel
and I see Kirby behind the alley.
Behind the barbershop in the alley.
- What time?
- About midday. He pulled out a gun.
He pulled out a gun! I shit myself and I run!
- You're lying!
- I'm not. I swear to God I'm not.
I'm not. I swear to God.
Get the fuck down!
Fucking hell.
- Fucking Marcel!
- Chris, it couldn't have been Marcel.
How the fuck do you know
if it was Marcel or not?
I met Marcel. I know him.
- He's done my fucking nose, mate.
- Oh, fuckin' hell! Come on. Let's go.
They guy who done it,
he was small. He was a kid.
Fuck that! If he wasn't Marcel...
He's fucking involved!
I'm not saying that. But he couldn't
have been the guy who pulled the trigger.
The guy who done it, man,
he was a kid. He was small.
- Couldn't have been much older than me.
- I'm gonna take you home.
'Motion sickness. Cases have been
popping up all over since...'
- Want anything from the shop?
- Nah, I'm good.
What the fuck!
- Who the fuck killed Kirby?
- I don't know who done it!
Tell me or I'm gonna blow your head off!
- It was Jake!
- Who the fuck's Jake?
Some yoot, bruv. Some hyped yoot.
- Why the fuck did he kill Kirby?
- Kirby must have boy'd him off, man.
So why was you running down the road
naked the other day?
I must have banged some yet
and her man come home. I had to duck.
- I'll dead him if you want me to.
- You'll do what?
- I'll kill him for you.
- I'll do that.
- Yeah?
- All right.
- Know where this boy's at?
- Yeah.
- Have you got a ride?
- Yeah.
Let's go.
'Pity the fate of young fellows
Too long a bed with no sleep
'With their complex romantic attachments
'Oh, look on their sorrows and weep
'They don't get a moment's reflection
'There's always a cloud in their eye
'Pity the plight of young fellows
'Regard all their worries and cry
'Their Christian mothers
Were lazy perhaps
'Leaving it up to the school
'Where the moral perspective
Is hazy perhaps
'And the climate oppressively cool
'Give me one acre of cellos
'Pitched at some distant regret
'Pity the fate of young fellows
And their anxious attempts to forget'
- Yo. What's goin' on?
- Cool.
This is Chris, yeah? My man's your elder.
Yo, fam. You cool, yeah?
Cool, boss.
He just wants to have a chat, all right?
About you steppin' up.
(Engine starts)
Come. Get out of the car.
Come, man. I just wanna talk, man
Come on. Let's go.
So what, you're the bad man
that killed Kirby, yeah?
So what you lookin' at him for?
Are you the bad man that killed Kirby?
- Yeah.
- And a little girl, yeah?
- I didn't mean to kill her.
- Huh?
It was an accident.
Do you know who that girl was, though?
That was my fuckin' sister!
- Oh, you never knew that, is it, Marcel?
- Nah, man.
You sent a boy to do a man's job
and he fucked up!
Chris, just allow it-
Don't say my fuckin' name!
You don't fuckin' know me!
You know what? Fuck this. Drop him.
Here you are. Stab him up.
Do it!
I-I'm sorry about your sister.
You can put one in Kirby's head,
but you can't kill this pussyhole? Do it!
Jake, bruv, just... Come on.
I can't. I can't do that.
How the fuck do you think you got here?
How the fuck do you think
I know where you live?
He offered to kill you earlier! For me!
Marcel, you set me up?
Marcel, fuckin' talk to me, bruv!
You set me up, bruv?
That's it. Get mad.
You fucking...
You fucking used me, bruv!
- I didn't tell you to kill that girl!
- I didn't mean to! If it wasn't for you-
Get mad. Get mad.
You fucking dickhead! You fucking snake!
Kill him! Do it!
That's it.
That's it. That's it. You done good.
You done good, you know. Uh-huh.
You're a bad man now. Huh?
You're a bad man now.
Stop your fucking crying!
You wanted to be a bad man!
You're gonna die now!
You're gonna die now!
- Look up!
- I love you, man! Give me a chance!
Look up to me properly!
Stop your fucking crying!
My sister was only 14
and you fucking killed her!
She can't cry!
My sister can't fucking cry!
Look at me!
Put your head up like a bad man!
This is where you want to be!
Look at me.
(indistinct swearing)
(Police sirens blare)
- What you got?
- Fuckin' search me.
(Cheering and applause)
(Cooper) OK.
Here's one I wrote for a special occasion.
It's called Pity the Plight of Young Fellows.
- Carol?
- Yeah, darlin'?
I've only gone
and lost my fuckin' key, ain't I?
Did ya? No, you didn't.
You left it in the door.
- Did I?
- You did, yeah.
Oh, thank God for that.
Oh, fuckin' hell!
Listen, it's not half cold up there. Can
you drop an heater up to me or something?
- Yeah, all right.
- Cheers.
Their Christian mothers were lazy perhaps
Leaving it up to the school
Where the moral perspective is hazy
And the climate oppressively cool
Give me one acre of cellos
Pitched at some distant regret...
(indistinct chatting)
It's a bit difficult, though, innit?
- 10.15 in the house?
- Yeah?
My man will be here clockin'. He's CID.
What are you talking about, bruv?
My man here.
Vince, as well. I'll chat to you tomorrow.
Look on their like and lament
Approach with a cautious intent
Take it or leave it in any event...
Oh, bollocks! Yeah, it's karaoke, innit?
Well, I'll be here then, won't I?
Yeah, I'll have to be.
Listen, I gotta go, all right, babe?
Yeah, I love you, too. Bye.
Fuck! Fuck!
What the fuckin' hell's goin' on in here?
Oi! What the fuck!
What the fuckin' hell are you up to?
- What you talkin' about, you mug?
- Who are you calling a mug?
- Are You pluggin' drugs in my pub?
- Drugs?
Come on! Don't take me for
a fuckin' idiot!
I had one in here the other night
tellin' me he's not servin' up in my pub!
What am I, some prize fuckin' idiot?
I ain't havin' it, pal. It ain't on.
What the fuck are you talkin' about?
Aaron and that other idiot, Ed.
Think I don't know what they're up to?
It ain't on, pal!
Cool, bro.
Get the fuck out of my way!
What? What did you say about my mum?
What did you say about my mum, bruv?
Now come... Come here and say...
What you say about my mum, bruv?
Fucking come here and say that, bruv!
(Train stops)
(Doors beep)
What the fuck! Oi!
Give me your number!
Oi! Give me your...
Give me your number!
I'll bell you at the next station, yeah?
What the fuck! Oi!
Oi! It's your fucking baby!
Give me your number!
(Plan B) This story's dark
Like the place where this story starts
Full of fiends and gangsters
With gory hearts
Drugged-up girls
Dressed up like naughty tarts
Performing sex
And perverted forms of art
On anybody with a fantasy
That needs fulfilling
Even the filth, cops that lock up man
For stealin' frequent there
Bent sweat drippin' off the ceiling
Sadomasochists that need
To quench their thirst for beatings
Anything goes when you've got the
riches but only the sexually depraved
Pay for pregnant bitches
Her name's Katya
Yours to do what you wish with
If you're into chicks that wake up
With morning sickness
And have to make their way
Past people fuckin'
Punters hooked on hookers
Hooked on smack cluckin'
Spent her days getting touched up
And fucked, fuckin'
Wishing she could wake up
From the nightmare she was stuck in
But she weren't wakin' up from nothin'
This was her reality
A place where dreams come true
For those who lack morality
She had to get out
Not for her child, for her sanity
Cos the only difference
Between this place and hell was gravity
It was a weird twist of fate
The way that she escaped
She knew her chance would come
She just had to wait
Till one of her abductors
Made a mistake
Mixing vodka with heart pills
And smoking a straight
With the door unlocked
Ain't the smartest idea
When your runnings are illegal
And your cargo live in fear
Her path was now clear
But only for her exit
Cos although ahead was long
And full of unexpected twists and turns
She learned inadvertently how to cope
With life's little moments of uncertainty
Feelin' safe on the street
However absurd it seems
The mother and baby unit
Where she had disturbing dreams
Was the place she didn't feel was safe
And had to leave
It would only be a matter of time before
she had police asking her questions
J' Finding out the truth
About her underworld connections
Sending her back to the brothel
Either that or simply just deporting her
She's met corrupted law before
She can't see them supporting her
So she goes along a road
That slowly starts destroying her
Not knowing where she's going
Or why God just keeps ignoring her
(Baby cries)
How much?
Fuckin' 50?
Fuckin' brassin' with a baby?
Here you are. 40 notes.
Why don't you buy the little fucker
a dummy or something? Shut it up!
Fuckin' disgusting!
Who the fuck are you?
You're one of them illegal immigrants,
ain't ya?
(Baby coos)
(Baby cries)
It's OK. Oh!
Come here. It's OK.
(Baby stops crying)
Yeah. It's OK.
What's the baby's name?
No name.
Poor kid. She ain't got a hope in hell.
(Baby cries)
What the fuck are you doin'?
Oh, God!
Were my eyes open?
Are you going somewhere?
I'll take ya.
I've got the tickets, all right?
Look, I just need you to wait here
for two minutes. I'll be right back, OK?
It's her!
(Doors beep)
I'm still waiting for the sign
And you're the only one...
What the fuck! Oi!
(Bangs on the door)
Give me your number!
Still I sing the same old song
I'm still waiting for the sun
(indistinct chatting)
Oi, mister! Follow that car!
- I can't, love.
- I'll sort you out!
Just wait here!
What the fuck!
Fucking madness!
(indistinct chatting)
Oh, fuck!
Fucking baby!
- You got a ticket there, mate? Ticket?
- Yeah, yeah, yeah.
No problem, mate.
(Shouting and sobbing)
Get those fucking bitches out of here!
Come here, you fucking...
You're fucking history!
Quickly! Go! Go, go!
Hurry! Quickly! Faster!
Come on!
What the fuck is that?
- It's a baby, innit?
- What, you stole someone's baby?
Bruv, some woman left it on a train.
And you're bringin' it here to me?
Look, bruv, it's more complicated
than that, yeah?
Where the fuck did you get that? Hm?
- Well, I found it, innit?
- Where?
I just found it.
Just like that, yeah?
So why you bringin' it to me then?
I'm on the fuckin' train with the piece.
I got the reload on me, like.
About 20 feds with sniffer dogs
pop out of nowhere.
I fuckin' had to dash it somewhere.
I hid it in the pram with the baby, innit?
- What, you hid it with the baby?
- Yeah, innit?
That's the smartest thing you've done
in your dickhead life! What now?
What you gonna do with this?
Give it to the feds?
- I can't give it to the feds.
- Why not?
I popped past the feds with it once.
Am I gonna go back
like I fuckin' changed my mind?
I'll look like a paedo.
Well, call social services then.
What? Hm?
Nah, if we do that,
they're gonna put it in a home, innit?
- So what?
- Nah, that's not the one, bruv.
- We grew up in homes, man.
- Exactly.
Exactly what, bruv?
Some woman's just abandoned
her yoot on a train!
And she obviously don't want it, man.
Bruv... what the fuck is that smell?
Hm? What the fuck is that smell, bruv?
It's disgusting, man!
I'll have to change
its fuckin' nappies now!
Give me the gun while you do that.
Let me look after it for you, innit?
Is it? You gonna help me find its mum?
Nah. I've got better things to do
with my time than run around like that.
But you carryin' that, bruv...
Just give me the gun
and I'll hide it somewhere for you, innit?
Nah, it's all right. I'm gonna hold it.
You don't want no help?
You're a prick, bruv.
Come. Give me the tings.
H S 7 h O...
- Don't tell me you put it in there!
- I had to hide it somewhere!
What you puttin' it in there for, man?
Take it then!
You'd better clean that.
You're a prick, bruv.
When you're done fuckin' about, yeah...
Nah, when you're done fuckin' about, yeah,
you call me, yeah?
Cos we've got fuckin' things to do,
you prick, yeah?
- All right!
- Fuckin' daddy boy!
- Dickhead!
- Fuck off, man!
Oh, for...
You take the piss. You know that? Oh!
You laughin' at?
Oh, man! Allow it.
- I'm not even on it.
- Dickhead!
Get off!
Get off!
Fuck you! Fuck you!
- Get the fuck out!
- Dickhead! Fuck off!
Come with me, Jody. I need your help.
- Can Ashley come?
- Nah.
- All right. I'll call you later. Bye.
- Bye.
Come here.
They always fuckin' try it. Always.
We're smashed in here, Jody.
I'll see you in a bit, yeah?
- Oi...
- Yeah?
You're not gonna find her, you know.
(Door shuts)
(Mobile vibrates)
(Ed) 'You still fuckin' about
tryin' to find that yoot's mum?'
- Yeah.
- 'I've sorted it, man.
'Come see me down the Essex, innit?
Bring the yoot with you, yeah?'
I'm a bit nervous to be honest, love.
What you got to be nervous about?
We'll sort this out.
- How much is in there?
- It don't matter, does it?
Come on.
- I don't know. How old is she?
- I haven't got a clue, honey.
All right? Thanks, darlin'.
Oh, my God! She's lovely!
- What's goin' on?
- She's gorgeous!
- Come through, bruv.
- Take that, man. Take that.
- Bruv...
- It's cool, man. Cool.
- You want this mess sorted out, yeah?
- Yeah.
Well, I was speaking to Vince...
- (Carol) She's lovely!
- And Carol can't have kids.
That's a kid whose mother
doesn't want it, bruv.
She does, man. Problem solved.
What is this, bruv?
What the fuck do you think
is in there?
What the fuck you doin', bruv?
Fuck that, bruv.
That's not your baby, man.
Don't worry! Don't worry!
- Bruv, that's not your baby.
- Come on, bruv!
What the fuck is the matter
with you, man?
Don't worry, darlin'.
Just give us a minute, yeah?
- What you actin' like a little bitch for?
- Who the fuck are you, bruv, Jeremy Kyle?
- What, you shook?
- Nah.
- Think this is coming back to you?
- You can't give someone's baby away!
And to fucking Vince and Carol?
Are you mad?
We were fuckin' sellin' crackwhores
to him the other day!
She's gonna look after it, not him.
Can you see it over there, man?
She's gonna be lovin'.
- See her fuss over it?
- That's not the real mum!
Where is the real mum, hm?
- Where's the real mum, bruv?
- I'm fuckin' lookin'!
You been lookin' for her.
Have you found her yet, hm?
Nah, bruv, you ain't found her
cos she don't wanna be found, man.
Be real. She's gone.
She ain't coming back, bruv.
So we've got two options now, yeah?
Either we let them take this now, yeah?
Or we call social services.
You wanna call social services?
And they'll go and give this baby
to some other Vince and Carol.
- Nah, man.
- What difference is it gonna make to us?
Hm? To us?
Apart from this.
- I can't fuckin' take that, bruv.
- Open it up, bruv.
Do you see that, bruv?
This is so fucked up! You know that?
Bruv, there's four grand there. Each.
- Come.
- Get off me, bruv.
- Fuckin' hell.
- I told you I'd sort it, man.
What am I gonna say to everybody?
We'll cross that bridge when we come to it.
Don't worry about that yet. Hello!
Everythin' all right, yeah?
Is he all right?
- Yeah, he's all right. All right?
- Yeah, yeah.
(Door shuts)
- Where's my bag?
- What bag? What you talkin' about?
My bag with my stuff in it!
Look at the place! It's a shithole.
- What you doin'?
- Just geftin' my stuff!
You ain't got anything?
I've got a little you can have,
but don't tell anyone we were here!
- No, of course not.
- Here.
All right, boss? 10 electric, yeah?
(Michelle) You're gonna have half of that
and you give me the rest back.
- Of course!
- Michelle!
- What?
- Michelle!
- Look!
- Who is it?
- Him, him, him!
- Come on.
Come on!
- Where is it?
- What the fuck!
I can't believe you sold
a fucking baby!
Actually... yeah, I can.
Fuck you! I've been walking around all day
looking for this one, all right?
I told you
I couldn't bring it to the fucking feds.
You didn't want it back before,
did you?
It's done now. I'm sorry.
What were you gonna fuckin' do? Take
the baby and go back to being a tramp?
All right, listen, listen.
If I go through all this stress,
I lose my fucking money over it, everything,
then you got to chat
to someone proper, yeah?
Nice lady.
She'll sort it all out. She knows people.
My social worker.
That's how it's running.
All right, then.
All right, wait here.
Don't go fuckin' stealing anything.
So I'm fuckin' her, right?
This baby will not stop fuckin' crying.
It's givin' it the fuckin' big licks.
Shut it up, yeah?
I'm losing my fuckin' hard-on here.
She's like... (mimics Russian accent)
It's a baby. Babies cry.
I'm like, "How about fuck off?"
Yeah? I'm doin' one.
- Oi!
- Oh, hello! You all right?
- What's goin' on there?
- I don't know.
You wanna go and party? Yeah?
- Where's my fucking gun?
- What's the matter with you, bruv?
Listen, listen. You've been storing drugs
in the pub, right?
- What?
- In the toilet in the fucking pub!
Yes, man.
Either you or your idiot bredren have got
my fucking gun and I need it back.
Do you understand me?
I need it back.
You've got two hours to get me my gun back
or I'm gonna burn down people's houses.
All right, man. All right.
(Music plays downstairs)
(Mobile rings)
- Who's that?
-- I dunno..
- Hello.
- I'm gone.
All right, I'll call you tomorrow.
You all right?
Come on. You'll be all right.
That's it.
- Carol?
- Yeah?
- Come here!
- (Whispers) Oh, bloody hell!
He's always spoiling things, isn't he, eh?
- Carol!
- All right!
Get the baby, put her in the bedroom
and stay in there, all right?
All right!
(Whispers) I'll be back in a minute.
Are you fuckin' off your rocker or what?
Pain in the bloody arse! Fuckin' hell!
What you doin' bringing that fuckin' whore
in my pub with my missus upstairs?
- I've got a good reason.
- It had better be!
Let me sort it out then.
(Carol) What's goin' on?
Oi, listen, I'll explain, yeah?
Basically, a bit of a...
Ed should never have sold you the baby.
I didn't want to, but when I came down here,
I didn't know this was gonna happen.
I spent the whole day looking for the mum
and that's her.
And she wants the baby back.
She was turning tricks with some heavy
fucking Russians who got her banged up.
She thought they were gonna kill the baby.
So she fucking left it on the train.
Now here's the money and I'll give you
the rest of it when I get in touch with Ed.
Now you've got to give the baby back
cos she ain't yours.
- She ain't havin' the baby back. I'm sorry.
- Yes, she is.
You know what?
That is fucking brilliant, pal!
A bit elaborate. You know what I mean?
You came in here three hours ago.
I give you eight fucking bags for a baby
and now you want the baby back
with half the money?
What a fucking prize cunt or what?
Look at her. Done up very well.
Yeah, looks good, innit?
Russian gangsters, babies on trains
and where the fuck's Ed?
You walk in with Ed.
Am I gonna get four grand back off Ed?
- I don't think so, do you?
- Yeah.
- You do, do ya?
- That's half of it there.
A load of bollocks, pal. You can shove it
right up your arse. No chance!
- It's not your baby.
- What are you talking about?
Don't worry.
It's a scam. Can't you see it?
It's not a fuckin' scam, Vince,
and you know it!
- It's her baby! She's the mother!
- Shut your mouth!
Can't understand it
without a cock in your mouth, can ya?
It's all right when it's your fuckin' cock
in my mouth!
Hold on a minute.
What did she just say then?
She's a brass. She's always got a cock
in her mouth. What did you think I said?
No, she said your cock
in her mouth.
Do I look like I'm fuckin' lying?
And if I am fuckin' lying, go get the baby.
And give it to them,
cos that's what they fuckin' want!
- I ain't giving them the fucking baby back!
- Well, they ain't getting it either!
You stupid bitch!
Oi! Oi!
Come here! Fucking... Oi!
Fuck off! Fucking slag!
Settle the fuck down, all right?
Right, now you, get the fuck upstairs
and get the baby!
(Baby cries)
Come on. It's all right. It's all right.
(Baby cries)
(Alarm rings)
What the fuck.
What the fuck!
What the fuck!
Carol! It's the wrong fucking number!
I think it's number eight!
No, number nine!
Vince! Fucking hell!
Ed! Where the fuck is the gun, man?
There's a fuckin' fire goin' on, bruv!
That's Chris's fucking gun, man!
He knows you took it!
- I had to bring her down!
- Where the fuck is it?
Bruv, top floor, man. All right?
Wait. Where's the baby? Where is it?
What room?
Ed, the baby's still up there, bruv!
(Baby cries)
(indistinct chatting)
(Ed) Aaron!
Ed! Here!
- Catch it, bruv!
- What is it?
It's the bucky, bruv! Catch it!
What the fuck are you doing?
Bruv, I can't breathe!
She can't breathe neither, man!
You gotta catch her!
- Aaron!
- Do it!
(Camera shutter clicks)
It's OK!
(Sirens blare)
(Shouting and sobbing)
(Aaron) Ed!
Oi, Aaron, you've gotta go!
The gun! Aaron!
(Siren blares)
Who else knows about this?
No one.
What do you mean no one?
What about Ed?
He's dead.
What the fuck do you mean Ed's dead?
How did he die?
Don't worry how he fucking died, bruv.
Just know that he died...
getting you this.
Bruv, where the fuck are you going, man?
Shut the door.
Come work for me then, innit?
I'll bell you tomorrow.
(Kisses teeth)
(Mobile rings)
Take this, innit, for the funeral.
They might not let you cos you ain't family.
Tell them you're his sister or something.
Yeah, course.
What flowers do you reckon
he'd have liked? In the hearse and that?
Don't know. Anything that you choose.
White roses are nice, innit?
Where's he goin' then?
Are you fucking stupid or somethin'?
Fuck you then! Fuck you!
Follow me as I descend
Into madness with gladness
For years I've been surrounded
By this badness
No time to waste
It's high time I escaped
Out of the forest's gate
Sorry, mate, but these ends
Are in a sorry state
You can't relate? Yeah, well,
you can fuck off can't ya, mate?
Your heart is faint
Can't appreciate how this artist paints
My art is great
It's my mind that's in the darkest place
I can't erase the memories
I have of darker days
Darker days
That left a bitter aftertaste
I'm passed the stage
Of trying hard to mask this rage
I'm letting go, callin' out to God
To let him know
I'm fallin' on my own accord
Please don't attempt to save my soul
Get up off the ground
Take a look around
Dust yourself off
That's when they knock you back down
You get up off the ground
Take a look around
Dust yourself off
That's when they knock you back down
You get up off the ground
Take a look around
Dust yourself off
That's when they knock you back down
You get up off the ground
Take a look around
Dust yourself off
That's when they knock you back down
No backpack
Just a tramp making tracks
I'm cool like Keith
Making friends with the rats
Observing how they act
They ain't beggin' for my scraps
They ain't cats
They'd rather wait
Until I've turned my back, no turnin' back
Maybe now's the time
To turn to crack I've learnt the facts
Way before I learned to rap
This place is mess
The people here they don't pray success
They hate it, yes.
They don't want you to progress
That's why they test
Try to knock you to the ground
You pick yourself up
That's when they knock you back down
The university of lifeblood
That's where I got my schooling
I know that they can't knock me down
As long as I keep falling
You get up off the ground
Take a look around...
- Are you the owner of this vehicle?
- Yeah.
You get up off the ground
Take a look around
Dust yourself off
That's when they knock you back down
You get up off the ground
Take a look around
Dust yourself off
That's when they knock you back down...
- Bored today, gov?
- I'm not bored. It's just a routine check.
But you lot stopped me for no reason.
Well, not sure if you knew
you had a low tyre there.
How can you see my front tyre
from the back?
I'm falling down
I'm falling down...
- I've got good eyesight.
- It's cool. There's nothing in there.
- What's your name, anyway?
- PC Madeira.
- (Chris) Do you like wearing that uniform?
- What's this, Chris?
I'm falling down
I'm falling down
I'm falling down
I'm falling down
I'm falling down
I'm falling down
Dust yourself off
That's when they knock you back down
(PLAN B: Ill Manors)
Let's all go on an urban safari
We might see some illegal migrants
Oi, look, there's a chav
That means council housed and violent
He's got a hoodie on
Give him a hug
On second thoughts don't
You don't wanna get mugged
Oh, shit, too late that was kinda dumb
Whose idea was that... stupid
He's got some front
Ain't we all
Be the joker
Play the fool
What's politics?
Ain't it all smoke and mirrors, April fools?
All year round, all in all
Just another brick in the wall
Get away with murder in the schools
Use four-letter swear words cos we're cool
We're all drinkers, drug takers
Every single one of us buns the herb
Keep on believing
What you read in the papers
Council estate kids
Scum of the earth
Think you know how life
On a council estate is
From everything
You've ever read about it or heard
Well, it's all true
So stay where you're safest
There's no need
To step foot out the burbs
Truth is here we're all disturbed
We cheat and lie it's so absurd
Feed the fear that's
What we've learned
Fuel the fire
Let it burn
Oi! I said oi!
What you looking at
You little rich boy?
We're poor round here
Run home and lock your door
Don't come round here no more
You could get robbed for
Real, yeah, because my manors ill
My manors ill
For real
Yeah, you know my manors ill
My manors ill
You could get lost in this concrete jungle
New builds keep springing up outta nowhere
Take the wrong turn
Down a one-way junction
Find yourself in the hood
Nobody goes there
We got an eco-friendly government,
They preserve our natural habitat
Built an entire Olympic village
Around where we live
Without pulling down any flats
Give us free money
And we don't pay any tax
NHS healthcare
Yes, please, many thanks
People get stabbed round here
There's many shanks
Nice knowing someone's got our backs
When we get attacked
Don't bloody give me that
I'll lose my temper
Who closed down the community centre?
I kill time there, used to be a member
What will I do now until September?
Schools out, rules out
Get your bloody tools out
London's burning
I predict a riot
Fall in, fall out
Who knows what it's all about?
What did that chief say?
Something about the Kaisers
Kids on the street
No, they never miss a beat
Never miss a cheap thrill
When it comes their way
Let's go looting
No, not Luton
The High Street's closer
Cover your face
And if we see any rich kids on the way
We'll make 'em wish they stayed inside
There's a charge for congestion
Everybody's gotta pay
Do what Boris does
Rob them blind
Oi! I said Oi!
What you looking at
You little rich boy?
We're poor round here
Run home and lock your door
Don't come round here no more
You could get robbed for
Real, yeah, because my manors ill
My manors ill
For real
Yeah, you know my manors ill
My manors ill
We've had it with you politicians
You bloody rich kids never listen
There's no such thing as
Broken Britain
We're just Broken Britain
And what needs fixing is the system
Not shop windows down in Brixton
Riots on the television
You can't put us all in prison
Oi! Oi! I said oi!
What you looking at, you little rich boy?
We're poor round here
Run home and lock your door
Don't come round here no more
You could get robbed for
Real, yeah, because my manors ill
My manors ill
For real
Yeah, you know my manors ill
My manors ill