The rest of Magnolia pops to life, either in eerily real tracking shots or in static frames that might as well be portraits. Peete he’s dancing around a porch while the family that lives there sits motionless he’s mugging in a hallway next to Baby and Mannie Fresh he’s shadowboxing.

You see Juve shirtless, shimmering with sweat he’s grimacing in front of convertibles he’s showing off his gold fronts in jarring close-up he’s rapping animatedly-skinnier than you expect, all elbows and sharp angles-in front of a mural bearing the projects’ official name, C.J. A hard cut and suddenly, the frame fills with action: Juvenile in the foreground, perched over a puddle, a sea of Magnolia residents waving their arms behind him, hanging from balconies, poking curious heads out of windows. You see the rows of buildings stretching out toward the horizon, seemingly vacant and endless. There’s a title card, but within seconds, the setting is unmistakable: Magnolia Housing Projects