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Two hip detectives protect a murder witness while investigating a case of stolen heroin.
Marcus Burnett: Hey man where-where-where's your cup holder? Mike Lowrey: I don't have one. Marcus Burnett: What the f- w'you mean you don't have one? Eighty thousand dollars for this car and you ain't got no damn cup holder? Mike Lowrey: It's $105,000 and this happens to be one of the fastest production cars on the planet. Zero to sixty in four seconds, sweetie. It's a limited edition. Marcus Burnett: You damn right it's limited. No cup holder, no back seat. Just a shiny dick with two chairs in it. I guess we the balls just draggin' the fuck along.
[Mike, Marcus, and Julie start arguing, nobody paying attention to his gun; Julie just walks out] Store Clerk: Hey, freeze bitch! Mike Lowrey: [as he points the gun her way, in a flash Mike and Marcus stop arguing and point their guns at his head] YOU freeze, bitch! Store Clerk: Oh shit, I'm fucked. Mike Lowrey: Now back up, put the gun down, and get me a pack of Tropical Fruit Bubblicious. Marcus Burnett: And some Skittles.
Mike Lowrey: Hello? Marcus Burnett: We're your new neighbors. Mike Lowrey: Don't be alarmed, we're negros. Marcus Burnett: Naw man, naw. There's too much bass in your voice. That scares white folks. You got to sound like them. [In high pitched voice] Marcus Burnett: We were wondering if we could borrow some brown sugar...?
Mike Lowrey: My shit always works sometimes!
Captain Howard: Until then, until then, you are Mike Lowrey, you be him, that's what you are, you're him. Marcus Burnett: But I-... Captain Howard: You're him, I don't wanna hear it, you're him. And you, you're you, you be you, but not in front of her. You're him, you're you.
Marcus Burnett: Look, now I ain't no Wesley Snipes! I just hang out with stupid ass friends, that drive stupid ass cars, that attract a lot of mother fuckin' attention! Mike Lowrey: You know what, I need to jump over this car and smack you in your peasy ass head that's what I need to do. Marcus Burnett: Well, you know what you're arguin' over a mother fuckin' french fry. Mike Lowrey: It's not about the french fry, it's about your lack of respect for other people's property! White Carjacker: Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey! Black Carjacker: Shut the fuck up! Marcus Burnett: [to Black Carjacker] Hold the fuck on! [to Mike] Marcus Burnett: You want some bad enough, come get some! Marcus Burnett: [suddenly throws coke in the Black Carjacker's face and kicks him in the crotch, while Mike punches the White Carjacker in the face] Marcus Burnett: [Pointing gun at the Black Carjacker, who is on the ground] You like that shit? Wesley Snipes, Passenger 57! Now gimme a mother fuckin' handy wipe! Mike Lowrey: [Pointing gun at the White Carjacker, who is on the ground] Now let's hear one of those jokes, bitch.
Marcus Burnett: You better do something quick, 'cause we're running out of road. Mike Lowrey: Who picked this dumb-ass road? On the goddamn road in Miami, *you* run out of it! Marcus Burnett: You better come up with an idea fast! Mike Lowrey: Why I gotta come up with all the ideas?
Captain Howard: [Shooting hoops and continuously missing] I was, like, gettin' 'em all in before you showed up.
Marcus Burnett: Man, that Budweiser. It felt like I had a million of 'em. [Then sees one of Fouchets' men come in] Marcus Burnett: Wassup, motherfucker?
Marcus Burnett: [after the Fouchet thug tries to shoot the gun nothing happens and Marcus slams him into a urinal] Next time, learn to work the safety with your punk-ass.
Mike Lowrey: Hey, hey, what's this having-a-picnic shit in my car? Marcus Burnett: Look man, I ain't getting my sex at home, OK? Don't deny me this. Mike Lowrey: What are you talking about, man? You sleep with a beautiful woman everyday. Marcus Burnett: I'm married. That's what married means. It means you sleep together, but you can't get none.
Julie Mott: I don't eat flesh. Marcus Burnett: Say what? Julie Mott: That's flesh that you're shoveling into your mouth. You know, that was, like, a living, breathing creature. You know, it probably had a name. Marcus Burnett: It's just bologna. My bologna has a first name.
Mike Lowrey: [while looking at a photo album with Marcus's wife, Theresa and answers the phone, which Marcus dials] Hey, is this you, man? Theresa Burnett: No, no. Put that back in, c'mon put that back in. [Marcus hears this over the phone, thinking that Mike and Theresa are having sex, and becomes overly upset]
Marcus Burnett: You see what happens when you go off without me? You get into shit. Mike Lowrey: Oh please, like shit don't happen when you're there. Marcus Burnett: That - that ain't the point...
Mike Lowrey: Now that's how you supposed to drive! From now on that's how you drive!
Mike Lowrey: Please, man. Married life is easy. You only got one woman to satisfy. Marcus Burnett: Yo, man, we ain't the Cosbys.
Store Clerk: Freeze mother bitches.
Mick O'Brien: I killed your little brother, but he's dead because you didn't look after him.
Ferguson: [as Julie reaches into her bra for a hidden handcuff key] What you got an itch? I'd love to scratch it. Julie Mott: [gives Ferguson the finger] Scratch this, okay? Ferguson: Yeah I'll scratch anything you want to you blue-eyed bitch. Julie Mott: Did you go to college?
Marcus Burnett: Oh, man, that was cold. Detective Sanchez: Yeah, so was your mama's bed.
Marcus Burnett: [to Fletch] If you don't sit your lanky ass down right now, bottom-line, I will knock you the fuck out.
Marcus Burnett: [driving the "ice-cream truck"] What am I smellin'? Mike Lowrey: Just drive! Marcus Burnett: What am I smellin'? Julie Mott: [Sees barrels of ether hanging in the back of the van. Reads the label] Ether. Extremely... flammable... ether. Oh shit! Mike Lowrey: God-damn... Marcus Burnett: Oh, you-you-you-you da man. Oh you're the fuckin' man tonight! You go and pick an ice-cream truck that's a damn bomb!
Marcus Burnett: You made me think you were gonna shoot me for a minute. Mike Lowrey: I was. [pause]
Fouchet: I like it when a woman takes pride in her appearance. Don't you? Casper: Yeah, I hate it when a bitch lets herself slide.
Gene Daniels: My name is Gene Daniels. Call me Mr. Daniels, I like that, don't call me anything else.
Marcus Burnett: He steals our shit, kidnaps Julie, shoots at my wife. Oh, we beatin' him down. We beatin' him DOWN!
Marcus Burnett: [to Sanchez and Ruiz] Where were y'all last night? Mike Lowrey: Yeah, why don't you just tell your cousins to bring the shit back? Detective Sanchez: Yeah we tried to, but you know what? We came up with a problem... your mama snorted it up!
[to Lofgren] Paco Moreno: I lost my brother. All you lost was some skin.
Mike Lowrey: Marcus, I just have one question for ya bro. How the hell you gonna leave my ass at a gun fight to go get the car!
Marcus Burnett: [while pursuing Fouchet, who is up ahead in a roadster] You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can, and will be used against you in a court of law. Mike Lowrey: Yo man, what the fuck are you doing? Marcus Burnett: Getting it out the way.
Gene Daniels: If you think you're hip, you're not. If you were you wouldn't be here.
Captain Howard: Ho, what did I say? Did you hear what I said? I heard what I said 'cause I was standing there when I said it.
Mike Lowrey: [after Marcus outruns Fochet at the airport] Now that's how you s'pose to drive. From now on, that's how you drive!
Mick O'Brien: I'm sorry about your little brother, Moreno. Paco Moreno: Oh, you really break my heart, you know that? I'm sorry about your old lady. I'm sorry I didn't get to finish the job.
Marcus Burnett: You know I'm a better cop when I get some in the morning, I feel lighter on my feet.
Mike Lowrey: You know you drive almost slow enough to drive Miss Daisy.
Mike Lowrey: [on Captain Howard and Captain Sinclair, having another vicious argument] They should just bone and get that shit over with.
Marcus Burnett: Damn, why am I tripping on shit I know is there?
Marcus Burnett: Do you see the fuckin' emotion I'm goin' through right now? That means this shit is serious. That means me and this motherfucker's not vibin' right now. That's what that shit means.
Mike Lowrey: What the hell are you doin'? Marcus Burnett: Keepin' my shit quick. Mike Lowrey: Oh, I see. You aren't gettin any at home, so you got a lot of extra energy. Go ahead, burn it off.
[Julie is handcuffed to a steering wheel] Julie Mott: [to herself] "Hi Julie, what have you been up to the last couple of days?" Oh nothing, just hangin' out, handcuffed to steering wheels.
Marcus Burnett: You forgot your boarding pass.
Mike Lowrey: King Dingaling.
Stake-out crook: Watching the place was my first gig. Detective Sanchez: Oh, so does that make you union?
Julie Mott: Can I help you? Theresa Burnett: Yes, I'm here to kill my husband, Marcus Burnett. Julie Mott: Uh-huh, and that'd be the tall one or the short one? Theresa Burnett: The short one. Julie Mott: I thought so.
Marcus Burnett: Mike. Go downstairs and have a Coke and smile.
Mike Lowrey: You know what man? I'm so sick of this bullshit. What, I'm supposed to APOLOGIZE for my family leaving me money? All I EVER wanted to be was a cop. I go out there and take it to the max everyday. I'm the first guy through the door and I'm always the last one to leave the crime scene. So you know what? Fuck you, and fuck them, and fuck EVERYBODY that's got a problem with Mike Lowrey. Marcus Burnett: I love you, man. Mike Lowrey: Fuck you Marcus. Marcus Burnett: I do. You're cool. You're my boy. Mike Lowrey: Shut up, shut up Marcus. Slow-ass driver. Drivin' like a bitch. Slow-ass. Marcus Burnett: Why I gotta be all that? I'll take you and me off this fuckin' cliff if you keep fuckin' with me. Then it'll be what, two bitches in the sea. Huh, is that it? Is that what you want? Mike Lowrey: Shut up, Marcus. Marcus Burnett: My wife knows I ain't no bitch. I'm a bad boy.
Warden Bendix: One way or the other, I'm going to get to the bottom of this.
Ferguson: Watch your fucking mouth.
Mike Lowrey: [Howard is yelling at Burnett for having a shootout outside a hotel] I haven't killed anyone today, yet, Captain... Captain Howard: Hey, do you want me to yell at you? Cause I can do that!
Marcus Burnett: [trying to imitate Mike] Hello, this is Mike Low-rey... Captain Howard: He doesn't talk that way. Try to talk like him, like him! Try to talk sexy. Sexy, you don't talk sexy enough! Marcus Burnett: Cap, Cap! I've been there.
Horowitz: That's Lofgren. They call him Viking. I call him shit for brains. Viking Lofgren: Shut your fucking mouth, Horowitz.
Mick O'Brien: Two carts for me and two carts for Horowitz... for free.
Marcus Burnett: [to Mike] I'm not understanding, I - I really don't. Store Clerk: [pointing gun at Marcus] Shut up! Marcus Burnett: I mean, do you just attract violence?
Horowitz: What are you afraid of? Mick O'Brien: I ain't afraid of anything. Horowitz: Hey, after what you did to Viking and Tweety, you're IT!
Mick O'Brien: Hey. What are the odds on me now, Perretti? Perretti: Three to two... against you. Nothing personal.
Mike Lowrey: I don't know why you going home to your wife. You got shot in the leg, your dick probably don't even work.
Ramon Herrera: The only reason you're here is because there is no room for you anywhere else. Paco Moreno: Well, why don't you get me a room at the Holiday Inn? Ramon Herrera: Why don't you wise up?
Mike Lowrey: [to the White Carjacker holding a gun to his head] Let me tell you how bad a day you're having: right now you're jacking a couple of cops. White Carjacker: Oh, yeah? Well, I'm a stand-up comedian. And I SUCK! That's why I need your car.
Viking Lofgren: Hey, lipshitz. Horowitz: The name is Horowitz, asshole. Viking Lofgren: Horowitz asshole? Paco Moreno: I heard it was lipshitz. Viking Lofgren: Yeah, and if your lip shits, what's your asshole doin'?
Theresa Burnett: And you don't even have your wedding ring on. [Slams bedroom door shut] Marcus Burnett: Damn. Um. Naw Naw I went undercover. And it uh required the taking off of the ring that's all for a second. But I got the ring, look I just put my hand in my pocket cos that's where it was and its right back on baby. [sighs] Marcus Burnett: Damn. Can I get a pillow?
Marcus Burnett: This is bad. No, let me call it what is. This is fucked up.
Mike Lowrey: [to store clerk, who is pointing a gun at Mike] I'm gonna reach for my badge, ok? Store Clerk: Badges? Do you want badges motherbitch? I give you badges! 99 cents each. [throws some badges at Mike] Store Clerk: I sell you some.
Theresa Burnett: Oh oh. Don't kiss me, Mike. I don't know where your lips were last night. Move. Quincy Burnett: Uncle Mike, did you have a date last night? Mike Lowrey: Whooo. Did I. Let me tell you, this girl was... Theresa Burnett: Hey hey. Don't you go telling my boys none of your sleazy sex stories. Mike Lowrey: Aw, no. I only tell your husband my sleazy sex stories. Marcus Burnett: Hey. Theresa Burnett: Well, I don't want him hearing either. Gives him ideas. Marcus Burnett: Why are you doing this to me, man? I'm with my babies. Okay? Thank you.
[Casper answers the ringing cell phone] Casper: Hello. Mike Lowrey: Yeah, can I speak to Romeo? Casper: No, there ain't no Romeo here, asshole. [Ferguson laughs] Casper: [to Ferguson] What the fuck are you laughing at?
Casper: Jesus. Could you use a smaller gun? You got blood on me again.
Mike Lowrey: Everybody wants to be like Mike. Captain Howard: Yeah, and you're gonna be retired like him too.
Marcus Burnett: What are our chances? Mike Lowrey: Remember Club Hell? Marcus Burnett: Yeah. Mike Lowrey: Worse.
Mike Lowrey: [Holding Jojo at gunpoint] Hey Jojo, I got 16 bullets in this gun and I swear I'll fill up your brain with some hot shit if you don't give me any answers. Jojo: What? You're pulling a gun on me? I should turn you guys into Hard Copy. Marcus Burnett: Mike, no. He's a smokin' ass motherfucker. Mike Lowrey: [Takes out his other gun and points it at Marcus] You want some of this? I'll bust your ass too. Marcus Burnett: So sad. You're on your own, Jojo. Remember this, you splatter his ass, he's no good to us.
Store Clerk: [pointing gun at Mike] I blow you! [points gun at Marcus] Store Clerk: And I blow you! Marcus Burnett: Blow me? What the fuck? Naw, naw.
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