Trevor: You know what truckers do?
Lamar: Cut up women and get other dudes to jack 'em off?

Seatbelt. Serious.

So Michael, this is where dead men come back to life. It's been nearly ten years. But you'll keep for another day or so huh, old friend? You motherfucking fuck! I grieved for you! You weren't even fucking dead. You were my best friend. Well guess who's coming to shit on your doorstep, you fuck!

Michael: It's a foolish man who builds his house in sand, baby.
Franklin: I don't think my boy Matthew was thinking trucks when he wrote that shit.

Now go! I need to meditate. Or masturbate. Or both.