Stop it! You're ruining my yoga!

Floyd: Wade, I heard you was off smoking meth somewhere.
Trevor: No, not somewhere, here. He's gonna smoke meth here. Get me a fucking lighter.
Floyd: You can't smoke here.
Trevor: Okay.

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.

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.

Fuck man, you know how it is, homie. You just start running and shit. Then all of a sudden your legs give in and you just can't run no more.