That's just the kind of shit that's gonna get us pinched. She said she was 18. But you...

Marcus: [after seeing Willie dry-humping a young girl playing pinball] That's just the kind of shit that's gonna get us pinched. Willie: She said she was 18. Marcus: But you promised no arcades! You said you'd only hustle Big and Tall. Willie: What, you shat me outta your womb? You're my fucking mom now? I don't need any god damn lectures outta you. I know how to keep a low profile, thank you. [Willie turns off the alarm on a stolen BMW automobile] Marcus: What the *fuck* is this, Mr. Low Profile? Willie: Mind your own god damn business. [He opens the car and a pile of empty beer bottles and cans fall out, then starts the car and drives away, shattering several beer bottles] Marcus: [shouting] Ever hear of the Open Bottle Law?

Fuck me, fuck you. You can't just take up with some kid. You don't know who's around or what they do. You got some nerve, you little shit. What, you're my mom now? You shat me out of your womb? You said that yesterday, you stupid fuck. Shit. Fuck you. You are, by far, the dumbest, most pathetic piece of maggot-eating shit that has ever slid from a human being's hairy ass. What if the kid has one of those play dates they have now? Are you shitting me? The kid don't have any friends. He don't even have an imaginary friend, unless he ditched him. He lives with his drooling ass old grandmother, who sits in front of the TV all the time. Think she's gonna rat me out? She don't know her ass from last Tuesday. You fuck her? Jesus Christ, is everything fucking sex with you? With me? I fuck one person. I ain't serial fornicating, trying to float my liver, drinking myself silly because I can't stand what a piece of shit I am! What are you, Sigmund sawed-off fucking Freud?