Look, I Love You Jimmy, But You’re An A**hole.

Seatbelt. Serious.

Michael: I'm trying to relate to you.
Jimmy: No, you're trying to take me on some nostalgia trip. You're such a cliche.
Michael: Oh! says the dope-smoking, game-playing, live-at-home, world-owes-him-a-living millennial.

It was crazy as hell. He must've been tweaking. I know I am. You got a washing machine I could take apart?

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.