Doughboy: Ho's gotta eat too.
Shalika: Who you callin' a ho', I ain't no ho'.
Doughboy: Oops, I'm sorry, bitch.
Doughboy: Yeah, I heard you been gettin' that dope-head pussy. See, me, I probably get more pussy than you get air with yo' wannabe macdaddy ass.
Dooky: You don't know what I be getting. I don't be fucking no dopeheads. I let them suck my dick. Shit, they got AIDS and shit.
Monster: Stupid motherfucker, don't you know you can catch that shit from letting them suck on your dick?
Doughboy: Thank you.
Dooky: See. I ain't sick. I ain't all skinny and shit.
Chris: Nigga, what you mean you ain't skinny. Motherfucker so skinny, he can hula hoop through a Cheerio. And you ain't got to be skinny or sick, you can die five years from now from that shit.
Dooky: Y'all just trying to scare me... for real, can you really die from lettin em suck on yo dick?
Shalika: Why is it every time you talk about a female you gotta say bitch, ho, or hootchie?
Doughboy: 'Cause that's what you are.
Officer Coffey: Something wrong?
Furious Styles: Something wrong? Yeah. It's just too bad you don't know what it is... *Brother*.
Furious Styles: Any fool with a dick can make a baby, but only a real man can raise his children.
Furious Styles: Why is it that there is a gun shop on almost every corner in this community?
The Old Man: Why?
Furious Styles: I'll tell you why. For the same reason that there is a liquor store on almost every corner in the black community. Why? They want us to kill ourselves.
Shalika: How do you know God's a he? He can be a she. You don't know that.
Tre Styles: I get a discount on clothes, and shit. You like?
Doughboy: Nigga, you look like you selling rocks!
Chris: Yo, Tre' you be slinging that shit?
Tre Styles: No, I don't sell that shit!
Doughboy: You couldn't anyway! Pops will kick yo' ass! You know I'm out the pen. I'm gon' keep my ass out this time.
Tre Styles: That's what we're here to celebrate, right? Damn, brother how did you get so big?
Doughboy: Pumping iron, and eating. Ain't nothing else to do in the motherfucking pen. Three hots, and a cot, know what I'm saying? I was also reading, and writing my girl.
Monster: You read?
Doughboy: Yeah nigga, I ain't no criminal! I can read, bitch!
[Furious has shot at a burglar]
Furious: Somebody must have been praying for that fool, cause I swear I aimed right for his head.
Tre Age 10: You should have blew it off.
Furious Styles: Don't say that. Don't say that. Just would've contributed to the killing of another brother.
Doughboy: We got a problem here? We got a problem, nigga?
[Ferris and gang take a step back]
Ferris: Put the gun away, nigga.
Female Club Member: Can we have one night where there ain't no fightin'; nobody gets shot?
Doughboy: Shut up, bitch!
Mrs. Baker: You ain't shit. You just like your daddy. You don't do shit, and you never gonna amount to shit. All you do is eat, sleep, and shit.
[Tre answers the phone]
Tre Styles: Who dis?
Reva Deveraux: Who dis? What kind of way is that to answer the phone? Have you given anymore thought to what we talked about?
Tre Styles: Yeah... I don't know yet.
Reva Deveraux: Let me speak to yo daddy.
Tre Styles: POP! Telephone.
Furious Styles: Who dis?
[complaining about TV news coverage]
Doughboy: Either they don't know, don't show, or don't care about what's going on in the hood. They had all this foreign shit. They didn't have shit on my brother, man.
Doughboy: I heard you like Mr. GQ Smooth now. You working over at the Fox Hills Mall?
Tre Styles: Yeah, I get discounts on clothes. You like?
Doughboy: You look like you sellin' rocks.
Doughboy: Turn your punk ass over!
Doughboy: Life would be different if God was a bitch.
Tre Styles: Man, what the fuck is wrong with you?
Tre Styles: You're slamming my door like some kind of Gorilla on a football field!
Ricky: Damn, Nigger! What's wrong with you?
Tre Styles: Nothing.
Doughboy: Fool you don't go to college to be talkin' to no bitches. Your black ass 'posed to be learnin' somethin'. Can't learn shit talkin' to no stupid ass bitch.
Ricky: Hey D, why don't you go to the store for me.
Doughboy: Nigga, I ain't the one she told to go get it, its yo wife.
Ricky: Look man, she ain't my wife.
Doughboy: She may as well be, Y'all got a family and all.
Furious Styles: Rick, it's the Nineties. Can't afford to be afraid of our own people anymore, man.
The Old Man: Ain't nobody from outside bringing down the property value. It's these folk, shootin' each other and sellin' that crack rock and shit.
Furious Styles: Well, how you think the crack rock gets into the country? We don't own any planes. We don't own no ships. We are not the people who are flyin' and floatin' that shit in here.
Furious Styles: [referring to drug epidemic] I know every time you turn on the TV thats what you see, Black People, sellin the rock, pushin the rock, pushin the rock, yeah I know. But that wasn't a problem as long as it was here
[referring to Compton, Watts, other Black ghettos]
Furious Styles: . It wasn't a problem until it was in Iowa on Wall Street where there are hardly any black people.
Furious Styles: Now I want you to give me the gun.
[Tre does not hand the gun to his father]
Furious Styles: Oh, I get it, you gonna end like Doughboy... like little Chris in a wheelchair.
[Tre still doesn't respond]
Furious Styles: GIVE ME THE MOTHERFUCKING GUN, TRE.
Tre Age 10: Don't y'all know that this is a dead body?
Ric Rock: Yeah, motherfucker, we know that shit. He ain't bothering you, so don't fuck with him.
Ferris: Fuck you looking at, nigga?
Ricky: I'm still trying to find out,
Doughboy: What? We got a problem here?
Doughboy: We got a problem?
Tre Styles: I didn't do nothing.
Officer Coffey: You think you tough?
[pulls gun on Tre]
Officer Coffey: Scared now, ain't you? I like that. That's why I took this job. I hate little motherfuckers like you. Little niggers, you ain't shit! I could blow your head off with this Smith & Wesson and you couldn't do shit. Think you tough? What set you from? Look like one of them Crenshaw mafia motherfuckers.
Furious Styles: What'd you use?
Tre Styles: I used the number she gave me... Why you sweating me? I didn't have to use nothing. She said she was on the pill.
Furious Styles: How many times do I have I told you, if a girl says she's on the pill, you use somethin anyway. Pill ain't goin' to keep your dick from falling off. I don't know why you insist on learning things the hard way, but you gon' learn. Oh yeah, you gon' learn. Pick up that hair.
Tre Styles: Hey, Dough!
Tre Styles: You still got one brother left, man.
Doughboy: Thanks, man... Later, G.
Tre Styles: Later.
Doughboy: Man your pops is like, mothafuckin, Malcolm... Farrakhan.
Doughboy: Domino, motherfucker!
Ricky: [scratching lotto ticket] damn, nothin.
Tre Styles: what?
Ricky: Nothin, I said I didn't win nothin.
Tre Styles: You gotta be mexican to win that shit.
Tre Age 10: Who;s dat?
Doughboy, Age 10: Dat's my lady, homie. Her name is Brandi.
Ricky, Age 10: Man, she ain't your woman. She my woman.
Doughboy, Age 10: How can she be yo' woman when she my lady?
Ricky, Age 10: She my wife.
Doughboy, Age 10: She may be your wife but I stick my ding-a-ling in her every night, so that makes her mine.
Ricky, Age 10: Punk!
Doughboy, Age 10: Faggot!
Doughboy, Age 10: Get off me wit yo' big 4 by 4 head!
Chris: Fool, I wasn't even talking to you. This is a A-B conversation, you know... you can "C" your way out of it.
Doughboy: Yeah, you can "C" your way out my ride, and we'll "C" your cripple ass walking all the way home.
Tre Styles: [knocking on Sheryl's door] Sheryl! Come on!
Tre Styles: Keep your baby off the street. She gonna get hit one of these days.
Sheryl: You got some blow? You got some rock? I'll suck your dick.
Tre Styles: Just keep the baby off the streets! And change her diapers! They almost smell as bad as you.
Chris: I tell y'all where y'all need to go, where they got more women than anywhere. Violence too.
Monster: Crenshaw Sunday Nights?
Doughboy: Street racers on Florence?
Chris: Nah, nigga, y'all way off!
Chris: I give y'all a hint: Everybody's been there
Doughboy: Where nigga, spit it out!
Chris: The Church.
Doughboy: Aw Shit! Nigga please! Ain't nobody going to church to catch no bitches. I should blow your ass and bump this porch with that stupid shit!
Chris: I tell you where y'all need to go, where they got more women than anywhere, fine ones too.
Monster: Crenshaw on Sunday Nights?
Doughboy: Street racers on Flourence?
Chris: Nah, nigga, y'all way off!
Chris: I give y'all a hint: Everybody's been there.
Doughboy: Where nigga, spit it out!
Doughboy: ain't nobody going to church to catch no bitches. I should roll your ass up off this porch with that stupid shit!
Tre Styles: [laughing after he breaks down in tears] I never thought I'd be crying in front of a female.
Brandi: You can cry in front of me.