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.
Lamar: The fucker got fucked. He fucked the fucker himself.
Trevor: Shut up.
Trevor: You know, Franklin, if there's one thing that you're gonna learn from being around us...
Michael: Plead fuckin' insanity. Then they can't fry ya.
We shootin' shit up? Sprayin' some motherfuckers? I can drive-by with the best of'em.
Steve Haines: The problem with this job is I only get to know the criminals who are dumb enough to get themselves caught.
Michael: Only I didn't get myself caught. Remember? I turned myself in.
Steve Haines: That makes you doubly dumb.
Michael: It feels like I'm giving a colonoscopy to the Statue of Happiness.
Steve Haines: Nice change from being up Trevor Phillips' ass all day.
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Fucking shit, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt! Who the fuck are you speaking to? Who? Who? I'm talking to you huh? You fuck! Next time don't get in my fucking face! I just saw a fucking ghost and I gotta hear your crap? Get up! Get up! Fuck you then.
Trevor: I asked for a fair day's pay for a fair day's work. Well, he kinda got a little angry. So, I admit, I kinda got a little angry too.
Michael: Did you kill him?
Trevor: What kinda fucking animal do you take me for? No, I didn't kill him!
Michael sighs with relief
Trevor: But I did kidnap his wife.
You're back, man. WE are back. All we gotta do is bust out Brad and then we're golden, man! Franklin, he makes us multicultural. Lester makes it cyber. We're like modern America. We just get ourselves a gay friend, and BAM!
We are about to put the Darwinism back in Social Darwinism, and brother, it's gonna be fun.
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!
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.
Seatbelt. Serious.
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.
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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!
