Gerald 'Slink' Johnson credited as playing...
Lamar Davis
- Lamar Davis: Wassup, can a loc come up in your crib?
- Franklin: Man, fuck you. I'll see you at work.
- Lamar Davis: Ah, nigga, don't hate me 'cause I'm beautiful, nigga. Maybe if you got rid of that old yee-yee ass haircut you got you'd get some bitches on your dick. Oh, better yet, maybe Tanisha'll call your dog-ass if she ever stop fuckin' with that brain surgeon or lawyer she fucking with. Nigga...
- Franklin: What?
- Lamar Davis: I'm getting my money in the hood, I'm straight, fool. I'm cool!
- Franklin: You cool? Cool what? Slinging dope and throwing up gang signs?
- Simeon Yetarian: This racist insulted me.
- Lamar Davis: What's up, foo? Who you callin' a nigga?
- Jimmy De Santa: No, no, I'm not calling nobody a nigga.
- Lamar Davis: What the fuck?
- Jimmy De Santa: I mean, N-word. I... that's not cool, man. I don't say that.
- Lamar Davis: You fuckin' right and you better keep it right.
- Lamar Davis: [Lamar, Franklin and Trevor are cautiously approaching a house operated by a rival gang to buy drugs. A dealer approaches the door] Courier service. Package to collect.
- Dealer: You got the grip?
- Lamar Davis: [Opens a duffel bag to reveal a large amount of money] Present and accounted for.
- [the dealer slowly goes back inside]
- Lamar Davis: You like that, huh?
- Dealer: [Re-emerges with a brick of cocaine] Sample?
- Lamar Davis: Now we talkin'!
- [the dealer gives him a line of cocain off the edge of his knife, and Lamar snorts it with approval]
- Lamar Davis: Huh-huh-huh! My throat gettin' numb already!
- Franklin: So we good, nigga, right? Well, let's go!
- Trevor Philips: How 'bout a taste?
- Franklin: No, man! We leavin'!
- Trevor Philips: I want a taste of the other side of the brick.
- Dealer: No, you heard what your boy said; you leavin'!
- Trevor Philips: [Reaches for the brick, which the dealer tries to pull away] Hey, gimme, gimme that! Gimme that... back!
- [They snap the brick in half, revealing it's filled with drywall]
- Trevor Philips: Woah...
- Franklin: What the fuck?
- Trevor Philips: [Furious] Did we ask for a key... or a fucking ounce?
- Lamar Davis: Man, that's motherfuckin' drywall!
- Dealer: [to hidden thugs] Hey, we got some motherfucking buyer's remorse out here!
- [Hides in the house]
- Trevor Philips: You can't fucking hustle a hustler!
- Harold 'Stretch' Joseph: [about Franklin] This motherfucker gettin' on my goddamned nerves!
- Lamar Davis: The nigga get on my nerves too, man. Part of the nigga charm, man.
- Lamar Davis: [the only occurrence in the game where Michael and Lamar speak to each other; Michael is sitting on a bench at the beach as Franklin and Lamar walk by him] Excuse me, homie, can you tell me where Bertolt Beach House is?
- Michael De Santa: No, homie, I cannot.
- Franklin: Man, would you come on? Fuck.
- Michael De Santa: [stands up] Actually, yeah. That house right there with the yellow stairs.
- Lamar Davis: Good lookin' out, homie. Appreciate it.
- Trevor Philips: It's a lonely old road, ain't it?
- Lamar Davis: Lonely? Eh, I couldn't say. I mean, not really. A road's a road. It ain't got abandonment issues.
- Lamar Davis: [the feds had just told Franklin to kill Trevor] Hey, who was that?
- Franklin: Nobody. Don't worry about it, nigga.
- Lamar Davis: Hey! Ol' flossin' ass nigga.
- Lamar Davis: You gonna drive? Let's go pick up this heat, nigga.
- Franklin: Why?
- Lamar Davis, Harold 'Stretch' Joseph: Business, nigga.