The clip smuggling from morocco from The Business (2005)
It's eight miles straight across from Morocco to Gibraltar.
Every night, we had one chance when the Navy patrol boats were far enough apart
for us to sneak our dinghies full of drugs through the middle.
And it weren't easy, our line of work.
Cos you had to get up around five, have some paella, if you're lucky, a bit of shrimp,
then wait for night.
We prayed for clouds so they could give us that extra bit of cover.
Even then, Sammy was the only one that made the call.
Sometimes we misjudged the timings of the patrol boats.
And as I wiped Moroccan kids� brains off me, I questioned my morals.
But with the amount of money at stake and Sammy breathing down my neck,
there was no time for regret.
It ain't good news. We've lost a few of 'em.
Oh, well, you live and learn.
Unless you're a dead kid.
It was Danny and Ronnie�s job to get the puff from the dealers,
load up the boats with the barrels and make sure the mules headed in the right direction.
Unless it was Ramadan. Fucking Holy Month costs us fortunes,
because parents wouldn't let their kids go,
even when we doubled their carry money.
But we got round it. We went to the orphanages.
Sammy was the eye in the sky and everything went on his order.
He was the only one that could give the green light.
Me and Charlie were on beach patrol.
It was our job to make sure the kids didn't run off with our drugs.
They're thieving cunts, Moroccans, it's in their blood.
So we'd grab 'em out the dinghies, sling 'em in the back of our van before they could run off,
then we'd drive into the Linea, switch lorries and send the puff off to Madrid to be sealed.
The bath is empty. I repeat,
the bath is empty.
Go! Go! Shooting stars never stop
Go! Even when they reach the top
Shooting stars never stop