Franklin Hatchett: You know guns don't kill people, stupid motherfuckers with guns kill people.
James Russell: I want some answers.
Franklin Hatchett: Hey man, me and Guy just down here, checkin' out some fly rides, and mackin' some hos and chillin'.
James Russell: Imagine that. It's like a G-Dog on a fly tip. Flossin' wit da posse. Cuttin' in da crib. what THE fuck does that mean?
Franklin Hatchett: Man, I don't wanna have to beat yo ass, but I will beat yo ass.
Guy Supriani: No wedding.
Connie Supriani: We got 300 people coming here.
Guy Supriani: Good, they come here, they eat, they drink, they sing, they go the fuck home! Sorry.
Connie Supriani: What am I supposed to tell them?
Guy Supriani: You tell'em that our Grace is about to be married to some no-good, limp-dick bastard.
Grace Cipriani: He is not limp-dick, Daddy.
Guy Supriani: I don't wanna hear that.
Franklin Hatchett: This tub wasn't clean you dirty assed white boy.
Franklin Hatchett: Why you always gotta be killing someone, why don't you try loving someone?
Barclay: That was some hard hitting stuff. John Tesh School of Journalism.
Barclay: Who gives a rat's ass about some two bit hustler?
James Russell: The people getting ripped off by this two bit hustler give a rat's ass.
Franklin Hatchett: MAN, GET THE hell of ME, MAN! and WHERE'S YO shirt AT?