Track 66: Cleats

• SPEAKER_01: Hello?
  
• SPEAKER_00: Hi, y'all, who's this?
  
• SPEAKER_01: Robert.
  
• SPEAKER_00: Hey, how's it going?
  
• SPEAKER_01: Yeah, I was wondering if you...
  
• SPEAKER_01: Hey, man.
  
• SPEAKER_01: What are you talking shit to my brother for, man?
  
• SPEAKER_00: What are you talking to you, dude?
  
• SPEAKER_01: What?
  
• SPEAKER_00: Do you want me to talk shit with my fist to your lips?
  
• SPEAKER_01: What?
  
• SPEAKER_00: Got to bust your lips, buddy?
  
• SPEAKER_01: Hey, man.
  
• SPEAKER_01: Why are you always talking shit?
  
• SPEAKER_01: Call my fucking out, man. Don't talk shit to my brother.
  
• SPEAKER_00: I'm talking shit to you, mister.
  
• SPEAKER_01: Yeah, you talk shit to me, because I don't fucking know who you're sorry ass is, and I can't fucking get you.
  
• SPEAKER_00: I just wanted to play with our band, liquefied mummy.
  
• SPEAKER_01: What are you trying to lie for him, man?
  
• SPEAKER_00: Liquid, liquefied mummy, dude. That's the name of our band, dude.
  
• SPEAKER_01: I've got no damn band.
  
• SPEAKER_00: What? Yeah, dude, liquefied mummy, brother.
  
• SPEAKER_00: Look, man, you're gonna talk shit, I'm gonna come on pull on my cleats to your face, and that's it.
  
• SPEAKER_01: Get off the pockets, guys.