- Catch. - How's that?
The 2.55 train to Manchester...
Oi.
- All right, lads? Bovver? - Pete.
- I thought we agreed to meet in the car park. - Decided to wait here.
You want to play the wanker, that's fine with me.
But leave it out till we've got today out the way.
- All right, mate? - Sweet.
Come on, boys. Let's have it!
- I'm not lending you any more money. - For fuck's sake, come on, play the game.
- You never paid me the last time, you cunt. - You taking the piss or what?
- What are you doing? - I thought it was just the three of you.
Oh, isn't that sweet? This what you were planning, eh?
I ain't going in with that fucking mug.
- Sit down, mate. - Hello, mate.
- Who's calling what here? - Get on with the game.
He's here now.
[Phone rings]
- Dave, where are you? - Sorry I missed you. Flight was an hour late.
- Fly faster. - I'm here.
- What, Manchester? - Yeah.
There's 40 of them waiting here, all getting very fucking excited.
Listen.
United!
- Bov. - Unitedl Unitedl Unitedl
Fuck.
- Do you hear that? - Yeah, man.
They're waiting here for you. Don't roll into Manchester.
- All right, nice one. - All right, laters.
- We are fucked. - What's happening?
- They're waiting for us at the station. - They know we're on here?
- Must have had a scout watching us. - How many?
- 40, 50. - Can't we just get off at the next station?
Fucking express train. Don't stop till Manchester.
Is that right, bruv?
Come on, boys. If we don't show up now, they'll claim a result.
- We gotta get to that station first. - We just got away.
You shouldn't even be here! This is what it's all about.
- It's what we fucking live for! - Fuck him!
Here's the plan. Ike, call Dave. Tell him what's happening.
It's about 12 miles to Manchester. We need a couple of cabs immediately.
[Pete] Fuck! Where's all the fucking cabs?
- Pete, I got an idea. - I thought I told you to shut up.
Fuck you, Bovver.
Cut it! Fucking cut it out! What is it?
[All chanting] Who the fuck are Man United?
[Policeman over radio] MP, this is MM5
in the vicinity of the last report responding.
Where the fuck are these cunts? That train should've been here ten minutes ago.
They'll be here soon. There's no way off that train.
Stay sharp, lads. And remember, Nigel gets that Dunham cunt all to himself.
Nice one.
- What the fuck do you want? - Sorry, guys.
We're with Paramount Pictures, shooting the new Hugh Grant film.
- We gotta get this gear through. - Hugh Grant film?
Any decent women in it?
Cameron Diaz, I think.
I hope so. She's fit as fuck. Let this cunt through!
Thanks.
Give me 30 seconds, then I'd get the fuck out of here.
# Where's your famous, where's your famous
# Where's your famous GSE? Where's you famous, where's your famous... #
[# Terence Jay: Shame]
[Police sirens wailing]
Get off me, you fucking monkey!
# There's your famous GSE There's your famous
# There's your famous There's your Famous GSE
# There's your famous GSE #
[# The Stone Roses: I Wanna Be Adored]
[Matt] We could have died that day in Manchester.
Everybody knew it. But we didn't.
Ike said later that the story travelled across England faster than the death of Lady Di.
The GSE were finally back.
Suddenly, I was part of the firm with the best rep in London.
- The old guards. - [All] The old guards.
[Matt] People around town had heard of me.
They would hear my accent and say. "So you're the Yank."
[All chanting] United! United! United!
[Matt] You know the best part?
It isn't knowing that your friends have your back.
It's knowing that you have your friends' back.
# I don't have to sell my soul He's already in me... #
They're on me.
[Matt] I'd never lived closer to danger.
But I'd never felt safer.
I'd never felt more confident.
And people could spot it from a mile away.
And as for this, the violence, I gotta be honest.
It grew on me.
# I wanna be adored... #
[Matt] Once you've taken a few punches and realise you're not made of glass,
you don't feel alive unless you're pushing yourself as far as you can go.
So what couldn't you tell me...?
I have to find out from your sister that you're expelled?
- Why didn't you call me? - I did.
- Your machine answered. - You could have left a message.
Yeah, well, I'm tired of having a relationship with your voicemail.
- You know what? I don't need this. - Hey, Matt!
Matt, come on.
- Shannon says you were set up. Is that true? - Yes.
- Why didn't you find me? - Why didn't I find you?
- What's your fucking point? - My point is, this doesn't look good, Matt.
You say that you're set up.
You don't contact your father? We could've fought this if you were innocent.
- If I were innocent? - If you're innocent,
- Why didn't you ask for help? - You think I'm a drug dealer?
- I don't know. - What do you think?
- I don't know. - Well, that's why I didn't find you.
Of course you don't know what to think. You don't really know anything about me.
- So you came to England? - Yeah.
- OK, what now, Matt? What's the plan? - What do you really want?
- It's just a question. - Listen, Carl.
Do you really expect me to unburden myself to you?
You just show up and decide you're the Dad again?
Look, I have to go to the London Times.
- You're unbelievable. You know that? - Just someone I'd like you to meet.
I'm not five years old anymore. It takes a little bit more to manipulate me.
An old friend from my Tribune days.
You thought all it takes is a handshake from the editor
and I'll have my old life back?
It's just a free lunch.
Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to the Quarterfinal Draw
for the Football Association Cup.
The oldest and most prestigious tournament in World Cup Football.
Fortunately, today we have with us the West Ham legend, Mr Frank McAvennie
and chairman for our sponsors, Mr Phil Peters.
As usual, the home team will be drawn first. Frank.
- [Frank] Number two. - Number two. Cardiff City
- will play... - Number three, Liverpool.
- Yes. - Shhh!
- [Frank] Number seven... - Number seven, Sunderland will play...
- Number six. - Number six, Newcastle United.
- Bit of a North-East derby. - Yes.
- [Frank] Number eight. - Number eight, West Ham United...
...will play...
...number five, Millwall.
- Fucking yes! - [All] Yes!
- Yes! - Come on, you Irons!
Fucking nice.
Bov, mate, we've got them, mate.
Oi, bruv, this is gonna go off.
Oi, oi, oi...
You won't believe who just walked into the Times.
What? Who?
Our little Yank mate.
I fucking knew it. I knew there was something dodgy about that little cunt.
Yeah, mate, sly.
- Tell you what. Pick me up after work. - All right. I'll see you after work. Sweet.
[Carl] You know, your sister's worried sick about you.
She says you're running around with some kind of gang.
It's not a gang, Dad. They're my friends.
- Are you at least writing about it? - Am I writing about it? No.
Hey, Matt, listen. I want you to come home with me.
- What?! - Look.
You may not trust me as your father, but as a fellow journalist,
your reputation is all you have.
You've gotta get back to Harvard and clear your name.
- We can fight it together. - Forget it, Dad.
- I'm not going home. - Jesus...
Look, if it makes you feel better, I am keeping a journal.
It's one thing you taught me I held onto.
I knew that.
I was just making sure.
- Hey, Steve. - How you doing?
Good to see you.
- Matt. - Hey.
I'm gonna change. What time's your flight?
Take your time. My cab will be here in half an hour.
I have to say farewell to my grandson.
I gotta take off, Dad.
Oh. OK, Matt.
Look, I know things have not been...
Great to see you.
- How you doing? - Good.
So you'll be celebrating the draw with the lads?
The draw. Wait, who did we get?
- You don't know? - No.
- Oh, come on, Steve. Who? - Millwall.
At home.
Huh!
Hello.
Don't we want to play?
- Hey, gorgeous. - Hey.
- You OK? - Mm.
Yeah, I was just watching my dad playing with Ben.
He's already a better grandfather than he ever was a dad.
You know, he seems like a decent bloke now.
For a bloody journo.
So he was an arsehole when you were growing up.
I guess that's why neither of you joined the old man's racket.
What do you mean?
- You know. Followed in his footsteps. - What are you talking about? Matt did.
What do you mean?
Matt was always a little more fascinated with our absentee father than I was.
Shannon, what do you mean, "Matt did"?
That's what Matt studied at Harvard.
He was a journalism major.
I just really hope that he gets back to it.
You know, once he gets your brother out of his system.
[# Acarine: Stand Your Ground]
So he's a Yank and an undercover journo.
Looks like we'll have to give him two funerals.
# My boy from the land of apple pie Dropped in a culture of an eye for an eye
# We're up for combat and beyond that Sky News, News at Ten, I'll be on that... #
# Hit the Wall, hit the Wall Hit the Wall, hit the Wall
- # We are the Millwall haters # - [all chanting] We hate Millwall!
- What are you doing here? - I want a word with you outside.
- What happened? Is Shannon OK? - Yeah, Shannon's fine.
Why didn't you tell me?
Steve Dunham just walked in.
- Why didn't you say you're doing journalism? - I'm not, I quit. What's the difference?
Well, listen, mate, to some people, it makes a huge difference.
What would you know about that?
Listen. I like you, but you have no idea what you're getting into.
I've gotta tell my brother that his new best mate is a journalist.
So me and you are going outside now.
[Barman rings bell] A toast.
Stevie Dunham, back in the Abbey after all these years.
Welcome home, Major. The Major!
[All chanting] Major! Major! Major!
[All chanting] GSE! GSE! GSE!
[Knocking]
Hang on.
All right, boys. What you doing here?
- The Yank here? - No, he's...
- A fucking undercover journo. - What?
- No, bollocks. - No, it's straight, mate.
I seen him down at the Times walking out.
Shaking hands, proper pally. What's that all about?
Think about. Drops in out of nowhere. Never been in a scrap in his life.
Snugs in nice and tight with a top boy at a firm.
For fuck's sake, Pete, what else was he doing at the Times?
No, that means fuck all.
Could've been any one of a hundred reasons he was down there.
- This time I'd like to make sure of that myself. - You sure of this, Bov?
'Cause if you're coming in here like this, you fucking well better be.
Yeah, watch out, son.
- What? This his, is it? - Yeah.
Yeah? What the fuck is this?
Here, Keith, you know about all this computer stuff. Have a look.
What's this?
Fucking cunt.
Here we go.
"First match: West Ham v. Birmingham. Home.
"Pete brought me to the Brigid Abbey Pub on Walsh Road,
"his main hangout, and introduced me to his gang."
Oh, look, we're a fucking gang now.
Make it go up.
"Bovver is Pete's thuggish righthand man.
"Keith is sort of Bovver's enforcer."
You happy now? We're all in there.
He didn't say nothing about me.
Wait here. I'll put some clothes on.
- So you're the Major? - I was the Major.
I guess to some I still am.
Terry here was my righthand man back in the glory days.
That was a long time ago, though, mate.
Why'd you get out of it?
I was a crazy bastard back then.
All I fucking cared about was my reputation amongst the firms of England.
You've heard all the stories about Millwall, yeah?
Last match I went to was Millwall-West Ham. We're talking a good ten years ago.
I mean, we'd been waiting for this match all year.
At Millwall. Yeah, stepping into their ground.
Completely outnumbered.
We were fucking wired from the start.
Now, Tommy Hatcher, he was their main man back then.
He used to bring his 12-year-old boy to the grounds, Tommy Jr.
Always banging on how he brought this kid up to be like a little pitbull.
Well, we lost that match, three nil.
And those Millwall cunts started laughing at us.
And I just fucking snapped.
I couldn't let it lie, you know?
So I assembled all our troops and we hunted them down.
[Sombre piano music]
I saw that little lad go down.
[Tommy] Wait! No!
And I saw his skull get crushed under the boots of the GSE.
I never went to another match after that.
And I left "The Major" behind.
And that's when I met your sister.
She was my angel. She really saved me.
Showed me a new life. Helped me forget all this bollocks.
And she swore she'd leave me if I ever returned to it.
And when it comes back to me, and believe me, it fucking does, that madness...
I mean, when I hear the roar of the stadium on match day,
the lads calling me to get pissed out of me fucking tree...
When I think of that, I think about getting back into it...
And Shannon and Ben, they remind me...
...there's more to life than all this.
Get all those juicy details, mate? Writing it all down?
- What? - You fucking journo cunt!
- You sure you know what you're doing here? - He's fucking undercover.
- Don't tell him nothing! - I said, are you sure?
What? You already knew.
All I knew is that he studied journalism, right, at Harvard. But he's dropped out.
We found his journal, full of stories about all of us.
- It's a fucking diary! - Ned saw you at the Times
with a couple of journos.
That was my Dad. He's the journalist, you knew that.
- His old man's a journo and you knew. - That don't mean nothing yet.
He studies to be a journo, his old man is a journo.
What's the difference? You let one of them get in with us.
- I wasn't trying to get anything. - You, shut the...!
I don't care who he is. You don't do someone on the deck.
What's wrong with you? He's gonna bury us all and you're just gonna watch?
No. Now, Steve, you're the Major.
You started this firm.
We got the biggest ruck of our lives coming up,
and your brother's too much of a bottle-job to lead us.
The GSE is Pete's firm. All right? He calls the shots.
Well, fuck the lot of you!
GSE.
Get out of the fucking way! Move!
Get yourself cleaned up.
Tommy.
This is it, mate. We're finally gonna get back at those fucking Hammer cunts, eh?
[All chanting] Millwall! Millwall! Millwall!
The fuck's he doing here?
Marky, sit down, son. Sweet.
- That's it. Do as you're told, you mug. - Fuck off.
Bovver. You know, we're gonna have to stop meeting like this, don't you, son?
People are gonna start to talk. What you doing up so late on a school night?
Shouldn't you be at home with your pals all shitting at the thought of us turning you over?
What, you had a lover's tiff?
What do you want, Bov?
Fucking Yank's an undercover journo.
He's at our boozer now. Tom, you gotta give him the chop.
He's got 'em eating out of the palm of his hand.
What makes you think that I'd wanna sort that out for you, eh?
Because the Major's there too.
Stevie Dunham's in there?
- Thanks, Pete. - Shut up! History student my arse.
- Who the fuck are you? - Sorry I lied about being a history major,
but I'm not a journalist.
It don't look fucking good, does it?
- Why are you keeping a record? - It's a journal. I've kept that my entire life.
- Are you working for the Times? - No. I'm telling you the truth.
You've gotta trust me, Pete.
Mate, you've put me right fucking in it.
If I don't convince those boys that the head of their firm was not just taken
by a fucking Yank journo, the GSE is done.
So I'm gonna go out there and I'm gonna tell them that Bov's got it wrong.
And that you're one of us.
And I had better be fucking right.
So, Bovver, is there anything else you wanna tell us?
Tom, please. This is how it's got to go down...
You fucking... Go on, Marc.
Afraid you're the only one going down, little Bovver.
Grass.
Fuck!
This shit with Bovver could tear this firm apart.
Mate, I need you. Stay with us, just through Millwall.
I'm not gonna help you.
I made a promise to my wife and kid, all right? And I'm sticking to it.
You know, there comes a time when the best reputation you can have
is the one with your family...
- [man] Down, get the fuck down! - Hello, boys.
Jesus!
[Matt] Pete! Pete, come on, man!
Terry.
Fuck off!
Terry!
Look who's back in the fucking Abbey after all these years.
Tommy, I'm done with all this, mate.
Retired, did you? Got yourself a Yank wife, did you?
Had a son of your own, did you? I had a son once!
Do you remember him?! Do you fucking remember him?!
- I'm sorry! - It's too late!
You fuck!
Tommy!
- You listen to me. - Tommy!
You die tonight, and me and you are even.
It's done! Let's go!
- Pete! Over here, mate, quick. - Jesus, fucking hanging here, like!
- [Steve] Ah, fucking hell. - Get him down.
[Bovver] I've messed.
Bovver, what the fuck did you do?
Get a fucking car!
[Car alarm wails]
[Terry] Move!
[Steve] Agh! Fucking hell! [Terry] Move!
[Pete] Get in there. [Terry] Get him the fuck in the car!
[Terry] Get in! Go!
Go! Fucking go! Get out of the way! Move, move!
Somebody help! Help us, he's been fucking stabbed!
Come on, hurry!
[Matt] Fucking hurry up! [Man] Resus. Go, go.
- What did he say? - He's hanging on.
Trusting lads.
You always said trusting lads was my problem, Bov.
I trust lads too much. Trust the Yank too much.
This is how you prove your point?
Backstabbing me? Teaming up with Tommy Hatcher to kill the Major?
Kill my fucking brother?!
I'll kill Tommy. Just say the word and I'll do it.
I don't need you for that.
I don't need you for anything anymore.
Go away.
Please, I fucked up...
[automatic door opens]
Shannon.
Sick! You're so sick!
[He gasps]
[Whispers inaudibly]
I'm so sorry.
I know.
The doctor said that you're gonna be OK.
He said it's just gonna take a little time.
We're leaving tomorrow.
It's not safe for us here now.
- How is he? - He's hanging in there.
- So, what now? - You let Tommy know I want a straightener.
- Tomorrow. - All right.
We finish this once and for all. Somewhere quiet.
Away from Old Bill.
- Your mate still runs security at Trinity Wharf? - Yeah.
- Get hold of him. Set it up. - Sure.
Come on.
[Knocking]
What's going on?
Ben and I are on the noon flight to Boston.
You can't leave him. He was trying to protect us.
- You can't do this to him, Shannon. - Yes, she can. She has to.
So should you.
I'm going with you to that wharf tomorrow.
Jesus Christ!
They crash our pub, they put your brother in the hospital.
- That ain't your problem anymore. - What are you talking about?
- I've got just as much at stake here as you do. - Matt, listen to me.
It's time to go home.
- I don't know where my home is anymore. - I think we both know where it ain't.
Mate, this is my fight. It's my brother in the hospital.
I'll take care of Tommy.
Go home, mate.
# I'm forever blowing bubbles
# Pretty bubbles in the air
# They fly so high
# They reach the sky
# And like... #
[eerie guitar strings plucking]
You're doing the right thing, Matt.
Yeah.
You know that back home nobody's gonna care about your rep here.
You know that, right?
I'm gonna call a cab.
- Where's Matt? - Finally went home.
Come on.
I know, fucking terrible.
[Policeman over radio] This is Charlie 27, MP CB 501, at Brixton Road, disturbance...
The cab's on its... way.
Matt?
[# Terence Jay: One Blood]
# In the far away fires
# Where the hills forever burn
# At the feet of our heroes
# We try hard to learn
# But the lesson is lost there
# In the smoke and the mud
# And that we are one flesh One breath, one life
# One blood... #
- Fucking have 'em! - Come on!
# I stood by the river... #
Come on!
# I stood in the killing fields
# Where death has no name
# I stood with my brothers
# And awaited flood
# And we were one flesh One breath, one life
# One blood
# Then I fell to the ground
# Tasted ashes on my tongue
# Thinking that only the dead
# Are forever young... #
You fucking mug!
# There was peace in the twilight... #
At least one of you Dunham cunts are gonna pay for my fucking boy!
# It was a world without danger
# A world without war... #
Me old mate, Bovver, you never could turn down a good scrap.
You know me, bruv.
Come on, get him up!
# 'Cause we are one flesh One breath, one life #
Holy shit! Shannon!
Shannon! Stop!
Shannon, over here!
[Pete] Matt, don't be a fucking idiot! Get her out of here! Shannon, stop!
- Matt! - Wait, Pete, what are you doing?
Fucking hell, Tommy. It's Steve Dunham's wife.
If Tommy reaches that car, do you know what he'll do to her?
He's a fucking animal!
Hello, love.
Matt!
Let me in, you slut! I'll smash this fucking window in!
I'll smash this fucking window.
Are you OK? Is Ben OK?
Matt!
You're gonna get it now, you little Yank!
Bov, wanna make up for what you've done?
Get my brother's family out of here.
Tommy! Don't you wanna finish me off, then?
You're already finished, little Petey.
The NTO will take care of you in a minute, you mug.
We didn't kill your son, Tommy! You did!
You should have protected him, mate.
He was your son!
- Don't you talk about my fucking son! - He was your son!
Get in the fucking motor!
Get in the fucking car!
He's only a poor little hummer!
His face was all battered and torn!
He made me feel sick, I hit him with a brick!
Now the cunt's not laughing or singing no more!
- He's not laughing at us... - That's enough.
I'll get us out of here! Go!
- You can't leave him. - Pete! Pete!
Fucking help him!
[Matt] Pete Dunham's life taught me that there's a time to stand your ground.
His death taught me there's a time to walk away.
I would never have the chance to thank him.
But I could live in a way that would honour him.
[Men laughing]
Too much.
Well, congrats on the Epstein account, Van Holden.
That should be a nice com-mish.
I bet your father's election had nothing to do with it.
Fuck you very much, Todd.
Gentlemen, if you will excuse me,
I must partake, once again, in this restaurant's fine facilities.
Fucking lucky bastard.
[Intense sniff]
What the fuck?!
Matt Buckner? Is that you?
Jesus, Matt, you look like shit.
Hey, Buckner, do you mind?
- You said you'd hook me up. - What?
I took the fall for you at Harvard. You said you'd hook me up.
- You're kidding. - They were your drugs.
You said you had more to lose, that you'd hook me up.
All right. Yes. I said I would hook you up.
Jesus, Matt, I'm in a meeting right now.
Call my office. Talk to Cindy. She'll make an appointment for you.
[Van Holden] You gotta be joking me, spineless shit.
- [Matt on tape]... that you'd hook me up... - [Jeremy] All right. Yes.
- What the fuck is this?! - This?
- It's my ticket back to Harvard. - Give me that!
I wouldn't do that.
# I'm forever blowing bubbles Pretty bubbles in the air
[chorus of voices singing along] # They fly so high, they reach the sky
# And like my dreams, they fade and die
# Fortune's always hiding
# I've looked everywhere
# I'm forever blowing bubbles Pretty bubbles in the air #
[chorus chanting] United! United! United!
[# Dash: Test Of A Man]
# Rep yourself, rep your fam Rep your health and rep your clan
# If the test of a man Is to throw up your hands
# Then we gonna do that part of it 'Cause it's united we stand
# I put my heart in this I'm a part of the art of this
# My cartilage is seeping out my nose like smoke from Parliaments
# If God is just, Then why do I continue to sweat it
# I'm ready to set it Don't anybody down who ain't jetted
# I'm headed for a brawl I like to get locked up and then bailed out
# Can't wait to get a taste And meet my mates at the alehouse
# These soldiers in the war for sport Report on the double
# Forever blowing bubbles
# I can't resist, it takes one dis I get pissed and here come my beer balls
# I flip my shit, get ballistic When one of my peers falls
# We got a man down, See how this fam bound?
# Step up and face them, adjacent That's how we stand ground
# I feel serenity when I'm facing my enemies
# Knowing any friend will be Sending me plenty of energy
# Lending no thought to penalties Never get what the end will be
# It's time to knuckle up And yo, you ready? Well, you better be
# Rep yourself, rep your fam Rep your health and rep your clan
# If the test of a man Is to throw up your hands
# They we gonna do that part of it 'Cause it's united we stand
# From both coasts of the Atlantic From the seas to seashores
# Once the fires undo our alliance In these wars
# We see the probable cause In most of our killing
# But what about the ones not willing And the ones who was children?
# We supposed to be building A better day for tomorrow
# I feel like we climbing a mountain As big as Kilimanjaro
# If you feeling the sorrow You know that your heart isn't hollow
# I'm ready to lead a new mission Are you ready to follow?
# Not swallow government interests Or their excuses devour
# While corporations killing millions With the abuses of power
# I refuse to sour To just step by and be quiet
# But I'm curbing my urges So these motherfuckers are riot
# We gotta question the weapon Used for reppin' up in our habitat
# The pen is mightier, why do you Wanna go and grab a gat?
# The goal is evolution But it has to be passive
# Start with the health of self To pass the mental wealth to the massive
# Rep yourself, rep your fam Rep your health and rep your clan
# The real test of a man Is to put down his hands
# And we can be united 'Cause if we divided, we damned #
[# Terence Jay: Run From The Pigs]
# Put it out, man The cop's behind you
# Let me remind you, jail's an ugly place
# So wipe the smile off your face So put it out, you gotta, hey
# You run away, run away
# What say, you look right through me You don't know where to find me
# Never give a fuck Until you're in your car behind me
# Watching, judging Making your pay
# Like every badge out there
# We're all victims of the system
# There's cops at every corner And no way that you can miss them
# How am I supposed to deal with the rage
# Take it out on you or on stage, yeah
# Buy it, buy it, can't deny it You never know how it feels till you try it
# If you want the message From the underground
# You gotta buy it Burn it downl
# Want me, come and get me, pig You want a piece of me
# Why can't you lie? Why can't you let me be?
# Well, there are clean-cut sergeants To the massive
# But all they ever do Is take it up their asses
# And on the day that they end up in jail
# They turn their badge in Their badge is their bail
# Now you want treats With no clip at your hip
# You gotta fight fist to fist Ain't life a trip
# And all the drugs you said Were killing my brain
# Look who's got his nose deep In the cocaine
# Buy it, buy it, don't deny it You never know how it feels till you try it
# If you want the message From the underground
# You gotta buy it Burn it downl
# Want me, come and get me, pig You want a piece of me
# Why can't you lie? Why can't you let me be?
# Come and get me, pig
# Want me, come and get me, pig
# I can't take this fucking bullshit
# Why can't you lie? Let me bel #
[sirens wailing]