Bud: Look at those assholes, ordinary fucking people. I hate 'em.
Duke: The lights are growing dim Otto. I know a life of crime has led me to this sorry fate, and yet, I blame society. Society made me what I am.
Otto: That's bullshit. You're a white suburban punk just like me.
Duke: Yeah, but it still hurts.
Miner: You gonna give me my car, or do I gotta go to your house and shove your dog's head down the toilet?
Lite: You like music, listen to this. I was into these dudes before anyone. Wanted me to be their manager. I called bullshit on that. Managing a pop group is no job for a man.
Oly: Oh, yeah, you're fuckin' A we ripped your car, asshole. You want to know who told us where it was? Your god-damned brother.
Lite: Hey, Oly. Your wife's hanging all over Otto.
Oly: Yeah, flies on shit.
Bud: I'd rather die on my feet than live on my knees.
J. Frank Parnell: You don't even know what's in your own trunk! And you know what? I think you're afraid to find out.
Lagarto Rodriguez: ...yeah, well that's not the only thing, Marlene. This car is hot.
Marlene: What do you mean? Stolen?
Lagarto Rodriguez: No, I mean it's hot. Really hot.
Marlene: Hot?
Lagarto Rodriguez: Yeah! We're sweating like pigs, man.
Lite: Put your seatbelt on, boy. I don't ride with anybody 'less they wear their seatbelt. It's one of my rules.
Bud: Goddamn-dipshit-Rodriguez-gypsy-dildo-punks. I'll get your ass.
Napoleon: Hey buddy, how you doing, huh? Hey, don't you remember me? I was in here yesterday. Listen, I think I left a book o' matches over in your office over there. You wanna go check it out for me, huh?
