"Wazzup, mutha-fukkas! Hehr-i-cane Chamiqua be headin' fo' yo ass like Leroy on a crotch rocket! Bitch be a category fo'! So grab yo' chirren, yo' Ho, be leavin yo crib, and head fo' da nearest guv'ment office fo yo FREE shit!"
Detective Greenly: These guys are miles away by now, but if you want to beat your head against a wall, then here's what you're looking for: they're scared, like two little bunny rabbits. Anything in a uniform or flashing blue lights is gonna spook 'em, OK? So the only thing we can do is put a potato on a string and drag it through South Boston, "Thanks for coming out!"
Murphy: You'd probably have better luck with beer.
Connor: aye, you would.