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.

They damaged my stuff. They smash up my home. Damage my soul. Look at this... This, this, this, this statue here of Impotent Rage. This fucking meant more to me than Johnny K meant to anyone! And they smashed it! Those pathetic, midlife crisis, hog-riding, shaven-headed, fruity leather-chap-wearing fucking assholes!

Floyd: You gotta go, both of you. My girlfriend, she'd kill me if she knew I had guests.
Trevor: Not much of a girlfriend if she don't like your family. Now would you get me a fucking drink? I'm not gonna ask you again!

Bring me my coffee or I'm gonna cut your arm off!

Franklin: We're finna risk our lives to rob some motherfucking government killers again?
Michael: Yup.