Michael: Alright... the fuck is this bullshit? We handled your little immigration problem or whatever the fuck it was. We're straight.
Steve Haines: Oh absolutely... yeah, yeah. You killed people, you tortured people, committed a litany of other crimes... Oh we're so straight you and me, we're arrows.

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.

Jimmy: Hey, let's bounce.
Michael: Bounce? We're bouncing now? Is that what we're doing? Jesus fucking Christ.

Lamar: I'm getting my money in the hood, I'm straight, fool. I'm cool!
Franklin: You cool? Cool what? Slinging dope and throwing up gang signs?

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.