You Ain’t Got The Nerve To Fire That, Woman Hostiles Clip

Something tells me you ain't got the nerve to fire that woman. Name's Cyrus Lound. He's my boys. This here's my land, and I want you to hell off it. I've seen you trepsin' through my fields with that sorry red, and I don't like it one bit. Mr. Lound, this land here is his rightful burial place. Where we come from, natives ain't got no rights. President's orders. Ain't no writing on no paper, president or not, can tell me what I can and can't do on my property. Hey, I ain't telling you one more time. Get your ----, your dead Cheyenne, and get the hell out of here. This is my land. Now, goddammit! You just ain't hearing me. We ain't telling you one more time. That savage stays here. You better make room for several more right next to him. Well, he ain't moving. Something tells me you ain't got the nerve to fire that woman.