Trevor: So, we ready to go on this?
Wade: Yep, although Floyd don't think it's a good idea meetin' at the condo...
Trevor: Tell Floyd it's a great idea to meet at the condo, and tell him we'll need chips and dip and prostitutes.

Michael: Come back, we'll order pizza.
Trevor: Fuck you! Fuck your pizza. Fuck everything it stands for!

Mine ain't nothin' special, but this boy gets the job done.

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!

Wade: Are we nearly there yet?
Trevor: No, Wade.
Wade: Are nearly NEARLY there?
Trevor: You keep this up, you're not gonna get there at all.

Steve Haines: Those bastards love to sell drugs.
Trevor: Who doesn't?

Did someone say yoga?

Ortega: What the fuck, Trevor?
Trevor: This is the fuck, my soggy friend! You are out of business. The Lost MC are out of business. The guns and crank in this area go through Trevor Philips Enterprise, or they ain't going!

The guns and crank in this area go through Trevor Phillips Enterprises... or they ain't going!

Fabian: Namaste.
Michael: Nama-go-fuck-yourself.

Next, I'll have this thing so far up your ass, your tonsils will be playing shadow puppets.

You make me want a lobotomy!

I'm rich, I'm miserable - I'm pretty average for this town.

You know, I've been in this game for a lot of years and I got out alive. If you want my advice - give the shit up.

What a shit show. I'll tell you what, you could take this desert, and stick it. My life may be a world of pain, but from here on out it's gonna be cool, comfortable, air-conditioned pain.