[making fun of a thug's hair]

Reggie: You'll never find, DUM DUM DUM, a hairline like mine!

Mr. Sheldon: Reggie, how many times do I have to tell you to open the potato chips after you pay for them?

[imitating Mr. Sheldon]

Reggie: Well, you're gonna' have to tell me that all the time, 'cause I like potato chips.

Reggie: Yo' hairline goes way back. I bet if you was in the Army you have to salute like this, YES SIR!

[salutes all the way to the back of his head]

Reggie: I got chased by a motherfuckin' Mexican and a big white bitch today. Looking like a project power ranger, chasing me all over this place.

Gina: What are you talking about, Reggie?

Reggie: There was some kind of diamond heist near the beach today, right? Bucum, chasing me. I'm running. I accidentally hid in the back of the damn crooks' van.

Gina: A diamond heist, Reggie?

Reggie: Then they tried to kill me.

Gina: So, what happened after that? How did you escape?

Reggie: How did I escape? You know how I escaped. I fought my way up out of there.

[wildly hitting at the air]

Reggie: I hit about five dudes, knocked about three bitches down. You know I don't play, Gina.

Gina: Baby, you can't fight.

Reggie: Who can't fight? I was knockin'. I hit this one dude. He ran up on me. I was like, "Mmm!"

[wildly hitting at the air]

Reggie: He hit me in the head twice. And I did... Look. And I grabbed. And then he hit me one more time. You can't tell me. See, I'm nervous and paranoid, man.

Bucum: Shoot out the back tire!

Reggie: Who do you think I am, Mel Gibson?

Mr. Sheldon: $7.50.

Reggie: [mocking] Seven fitty. Yo, it's fifty, not "seven fitty."

Reggie: You don't have a forehead... you have a five-head.

Bucum: There's a whole lotta money out there. All I gotta do is put my name on it.

Bucum: This is it, man. You're going to fucking jail.

Bucum: Reggie, I love you. But I gotta take you in!

Reggie: Come on, man!

Bucum: Punk-ass Mini-Me.

Bucum: Bling, bling, motherfucker!

Ursula: Do you know what he'll do when he finds out we fucked up a $20 million deal?

Reggie: [hidden in the back of a van, whispers] $20 million?

Julian Ramose: No, I have no idea what he's going to do, darling. I'm not the one who's fucking him!

Bucum: Now I believe you about the missing wallet, but the lotto, Uh-uh.