Carl Johnson: What's happening with you, Ryder?
Sweet: So what you saying? You don't respect me?
Big Smoke: What I'm saying is...
Sweet: Speak up, nigga!
Big Smoke: I'm hungry!
Carl Johnson: Oh, man! Shit... Hey, what's going on?
Big Smoke: Man cannot live on bread alone. I know. I've tried that shit. Carl, you look a little thin, man. You gotta be hungry, man.
Carl Johnson: Yeah, I could eat.
Ryder: Man, what you fools trying to eat? What about some tacos?
Sweet: Tacos? Again? Hell no.
Big Smoke: Chicken, man. No discussion.
Ryder: Man, I don't want no chicken...
Sweet: Carl, you drive. Smoke looks like he's gonna pass out.
Carl Johnson: How'd Mom get killed? We gotta talk about it.
Ryder: We all gotta talk about it! They was going for Sweet!
Big Smoke: How you supposed to know that? You know what people are like. Say they have love for you, but won't say a word. Too damn scared.
Big Smoke: Yeah, but people like to talk, don't they? Anyway, that's half of Santos you talkin' about.
Ryder: Yeah, you right, my bad.
Carl Johnson: Hey, bro?
Sweet: They just sprayed the house. I ain't see shit.
(Carl arrives at Cluckin' Bell and pulls up on the driveway)
Cluckin' Bell Employee: Can I take your order, please?
Big Smoke: Carl, what do you want? You gotta eat to keep your strength up, man.
Carl Johnson: Hey, I'll take a number 9 - fat boy.
Ryder: Gimme a number 9, just like his.
Sweet: Let me get a number 6 with extra dip.
Big Smoke: I'll have two number 9s, a number 9 large, a number 6 with extra dip, a number 7, two number 45s, one with cheese, and a large soda.
Carl Johnson: Hey, sorry, bro, you know I gotta know about Moms.
Sweet: I know CJ, I know. I mean I'm just trying not to think about it, is all. I mean, I didn't even know she was hit until it was all over...
Big Smoke: Yeah, right, right, right, right, right. Let's eat.
Ryder: Hey, don't we got beef around here? We been getting into it with these fools.
Big Smoke: I can't stand cold food. unlike you, I ain't never ate from a trash can.
Carl Johnson: Oh, shit - trash can bitch!
Sweet: Pass me my food.
Ryder: Hey, hey look - Kilo Trays scoping us out!
Sweet: Damn, Ryder, you're a jinx!
Carl Johnson: Shit, them mother-fuckers headed to the 'hood!
(Carl drives, chasing the Ballas car, whilst Sweet and Ryder shoot at the vehicle)
Sweet: Hit it! Go, go, go! Hit the gas, we gotta ice these niggas!
Ryder: Why you ain't blastin', Smoke?
Big Smoke: I'll shoot 'em when I'm done eatin'.
Carl Johnson: Quit stuffin' your motherfuckin' mouth! Let's go!
Big Smoke: I ain't stuffin' it homie, I'm enjoyin' my meal. Hey, kill that asshole! Shit, this a great sandwich!
Ryder: Smoke! Stop stuffin' your face and start popping them Ballas!
Big Smoke: I'm just enjoying my food!
Sweet: And them fools are trying to enjoy our deaths! Now, c'mon, Smoke, shoot!
Big Smoke: Hey, I'm just finishing my fries! My Special!
Ryder: Ahhh, shit! You got ketchup all over the seat!
Big Smoke: The business at hand motherfucker, the business at hand!
Ryder: But these was clean pants! CJ watch the damn road!
Big Smoke: Chill motherfucker! This ain't a Sunday drive situation!
Ryder: My soda its all over the fuckin' floor!
Sweet: Well you can suck it up once we're done! Now keep your eyes on the Ballas car!
(After they kill the Ballas)
Ryder: Man! That was some serious shit!
Sweet: Yeah, those Balla fools won't try that again! Carl, let's get back to the Grove.
Carl Johnson: Alright, I'm on it!
Big Smoke: Man, that food filled the hole!
Ryder: You chubby motherfucker! Next time you better blast or I blast you myself!
Sweet: Smoke, you're wide, I mean wiiiiide!
Big Smoke: Yeah, and that's why you love me, baby!
(Carl drives back to Grove Street)
Big Smoke: That's one up for the Grove!
Ryder: Say what, Smoke? All you managed to do was eat my damn food up!
Big Smoke: Yeah, it was gettin' cold!
Sweet: Y'all comin' in for a beer?
Big Smoke: Nah baby, I need to get back to the crib. CJ, gimme a ride?
Carl Johnson: Alright Smoke, let's go. See y'all later.
(Carl drives Big Smoke back to his home in Idlewood)
Big Smoke: Hey thanks, Carl. Hey, I've missed having you around, baby.
Carl Johnson: Thanks, man. I wish Sweet thought like that.
Big Smoke: He don't mean it, CJ. He's still real tor' up about your Moms, man. Here, get yourself a little smokey smoke on Smoke, and relax, homie.