Ah shit, here we go again.
I'll have 2 number 9s, a number 9 large, a number 9 small, a number 6 with extra dip, two number 45s, a number 7 and one large soda.
I'm a well-dressed maniac!
Woozie: One's a fake.
CJ: That's amazing. You didn't even touch them.
Woozie: No. I just took a guess. Why else would he come in with two chips and sound so worried?
Does a polar bear shit in the woods?
CJ: You do know that I'm black, right? And not Chinese?
Woozie: I'm blind, Carl... not stupid.
Eddie's got two tickets to paradise, and I do too... In my pants.
CJ: Does the Pope shit in the woods?
Cesar: Why you always saying that? I already told you. Where the holiness does his business, is his business.
Grove Street. Home. At least it used to be until I fucked everything up.
Carl Johnson: Oh shit! Where you get this?
Cesar: Same place I got my pants, homes. This is America, man!
Catalina: Are you going to fight for my love?
CJ: No. I can take rejection.
Sweet Johnson: You're dressed like a hooker!
Kendl: You two would know what a hooker looks like.
Carl Johnson: You say that like it's a bad thing.
CJ: Can you shoot?
The Truth: Kid, I'm a hippie. The only thing I've shot is acid. I did see a guy snort it once though. Thought his nose was a kangaroo and the moon was a dog!
We get dirty, and the world stays clean. That's the mission.
There's a simplicity to war. Attacking is the only secret. Dare—and the world yields. How quickly they forget that all it takes to change the course of history...is the will of a single man.