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.
Mike Lowrey: Please, man. Married life is easy. You only got one woman to satisfy.
Marcus Burnett: Yo, man, we ain't the Cosbys.
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?
Marcus Burnett: Damn, why am I tripping on shit I know is there?
Marcus Burnett: [to Fletch] If you don't sit your lanky ass down right now, bottom-line, I will knock you the fuck out.
[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?
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?
Mike Lowrey: Now that's how you supposed to drive! From now on that's how you drive!
Marcus Burnett: What are our chances?
Mike Lowrey: Remember Club Hell?
Marcus Burnett: Yeah.
Mike Lowrey: Worse.
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.
Captain Howard: [to Mike and Marcus] This could definitely be an inside job. Don't rule it out. The way I see it, we got 72 hours before the FBI and the DEA walk in here and shut us down. And we're gonna be the bad guys. The politics demand that somebody take the rap for this, and it's gonna be us. Just do what you do. Only faster.
Marcus Burnett: This is bad. No, let me call it what is. This is fucked up.
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.
Marcus Burnett: Oh, man, that was cold.
Detective Sanchez: Yeah, so was your mama's bed.
Marcus Burnett: Mike. Go downstairs and have a Coke and smile.
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: You made me think you were gonna shoot me for a minute.
Mike Lowrey: I was.
[pause]
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!
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?
