Bad Boys II

Marcus Burnett:
That was reckless, that was stupid, and that was dangerous.

Marcus Burnett:
I'm telling Mommy.

Marcus Burnett:
You a virgin?

Reggie:
Yes, sir.

Marcus Burnett:
Good. Keep it that way. Ain't gonna be no f***ing tonight.

Mike Lowery:
You ever made love to a man?

Reggie:
No.

Mike Lowery:
You want to?

Mike Lowery:
Now that's how you supposed to shoot, from now on that's how you shoot! Oh man, I want my next partner to shoot like that WOOOOO... it takes a dysfunctional motherf***er to bust somebody in the head like that. That's some disfunctional sh*t! My next partner's gonna invite me to his barbeques and sh*t, though.

Mike Lowery:
Dan Marino should definitely buy this car. Well not this one, cause I'm gonna f*** this one up. But he should get one just like it.

Mike Lowery:
It ain't exactly a pool, man. It's like a big-ass puddle wrapped in blue plastic.

Mike Lowery:
We ride together, we die together. Bad boys for life.

Capt. Howard:
I can't believe you guys. Do you get up in the morning, call each other up, 'Good morning, Marcus. Good morning, Mike. How you doin'? Ai'ight. So how we going to f*** up the captain's life today? Gee, I don't know. I don't know. Ooh, look. Over there. Let's kill three fat people and leave them on the street?'

Floyd Poteet:
I've got my rights.

Capt. Howard:
I've got a Police Commissioner so far up my ass, if he spits it's coming out of my mouth.

Capt. Howard:
I've got so much brass up my ass that I can play the Star Spangled Banner.

Marcus Burnett:
Woosah...

Floyd Poteet:
We've got our rights.

Mike Lowery:
Why don't you exercise your right to shut the f*** up?

Alexei:
The Russian Grim Reaper is here.

Marcus Burnett:
You see that?

Mike Lowery:
They throwin' cars. How'd I not see that.

Marcus Burnett:
Hey, Mike, I'm just trying to be helpful.

Mike Lowery:
Hey, you'd know what would be f***in' helpful, Marcus? Just shut the f*** up and let me drive, let's try that.

Mike Lowery:
That's that bullshit.

Marcus Burnett:
I think we just broke the record for the number of gun fights in one week.

Mike Lowery:
Change the station... more music less Marcus. If you open the door he'll be a black Dr. Phil for the next 40 minutes.

Mike Lowery:
Captain, is it possible we can discuss potential reinbursement...

Capt. Howard:
The department doesn't cover personal property, that's why we drive police cars.

Marcus Burnett:
Mike, you go to therapy to get your issues worked out, not bang your therapist.

Marcus Burnett:
You're like a pitbull with that pink thing hanging out.

Marcus Burnett:
Look, Mike. Calm down!

Mike Lowery:
Calm down? I'm calm. I'm calm. Whoaa! Whoa! I am way too unstable for that bullshit! Stop all the goddamn movement! Everybody stop moving.

Marcus Burnett:
Mike! There's a papa rat humping the sh*t out of this mama rat. No, he's straight pile-driving her!

Marcus Burnett:
They f*** just like us!

Marcus Burnett:
Theresa, cancel the damn cable!

Mike Lowery:
It's a donut. It's a medical thing. I got it from a maternity store. You know, a lot of pregnant women use it. They can put one cheek here and take the pressure off the other. For you, dawg.

Marcus Burnett:
Thoughtful.

Marcus Burnett:
To the DEA you're nothing but a honeypot

Syd:
What did you say?

Marcus Burnett:
It's no wonder you got the job because you look good in a bathing suit

Marcus Burnett:
This is a nice fish. Big f***in' eyes, but a nice f***in' fish.

Capt. Howard:
22 cars and a boat, totalled? How did hell you sink a boat?

Marcus Burnett:
Police! Pull over! Stop the car!

Mike Lowery:
Not your badge, man! He has a gun, shoot him!

Mike Lowery:
Now show 'em your badge!

Marcus Burnett:
Damn, it's the niggras!

Mike Lowery:
That's that bullshit, that's that bullshit.

Marcus Burnett:
Mike, the motherf***in head fell off!

Mike Lowery:
Rodney, I hear there's a boat on fire off the coast of Cuba.

Mike Lowery:
That's my DAWG.

Marcus Burnett:
Mike, have some dignity!

Mike Lowery:
What? I ain't doin' nothin'. What am I gonna do with these big-ass fake dead titties?

Marcus Burnett:
But you're LOOKIN' at them.

Mike Lowery:
There is something seriously wrong with your brain man

Marcus Burnett:
Just cover up 'em titties.

Marcus Burnett:
Are you a model or a cop?

Mike Lowery:
Hey, man, I like lookin' good, that's all.

Marcus Burnett:
For who?

Mike Lowery:
Hey man, don't hate the playa, hate the game.

Marcus Burnett:
Hate the tailor.

Mike Lowery:
We got a tip that these dope hounders were gonna do a hit on cash or drugs from this big time x-man.

Marcus Burnett:
That's what they call an ecstacy dealer on the streets.

Capt. Howard:
Marcus I know what they call them. That's why I'm Captain.

Marcus Burnett:
Hey look, man, can you tell me who was driving the black Suburban? Huh? Oh he don't know nothin'. His brains is under the end table.

Marcus Burnett:
He can't tell us sh*t, Mike. He's all f***ed up.

Mike Lowery:
What's your point?

Marcus Burnett:
My point is that dead suspects can't say sh*t.

Marcus Burnett:
My ass stills hurts from what you did to it the other night.

Mike Lowery:
Hey, it got rough. We got caught up in the moment, sh*t got crazy. You know how I get.

Marcus Burnett:
When you popped me from behind I think you damaged some nerves.

Marcus Burnett:
Mike, I can't even get an erection. I tried taking Viagra. Popped one, popped two. I've been eating them like Skittles.

Mike Lowery:
Ok look, we're a partnership, but we're a partnership with boundaries. We got a new rule. From now on you can't say the word flaccid to me. This is our little “boundary box”. We're gonna take the word flaccid and put it in there with my mom's titties and your erection problem and we gonna close this box and we gonna throw this b*tch in the ocean. And the only way that you can get to this box is you gotta be motherf***in' Jacques Cousteau.

Blond Dread:
Who that? Who in MY HOUSE?

Mike Lowery:
I'm the Devil! Who's asking?

Blond Dread:
The Devil... is not welcome... HEEEEEERRE!

DEA Snell:
We don't know you, but you look like you're about to do something stupid. I'm in.

Mike Lowery:
Man, Plan B does not have that big-ass gun in it!

Marcus Burnett:
You call this Plan B? What does Plan B stand for? Bullshit!

Mike Lowery:
Look, do you want to drive?

Marcus Burnett:
Yeah, pull over by those motherf***ers with the MACHINE GUN!

Detective Mateo Reyes:
Yo Mike, why don't you just give it a little kiss? You know, make it feel better?

Detective Marco Vargas:
Hey, just pretend we're not even here.

Marcus Burnett:
Say, isn't Ricky Martin having a concert? Get the f*** on!

Detective Mateo Reyes:
You always gotta go racial, man.

Detective Marco Vargas:
It's sad, man.

Mike Lowery:
See, that's that new spiritual sh*t my partner's on. Me? I actually prefer shooting motherf***ers.

Mike Lowery:
Hey, isn't it low tide?

Marcus Burnett:
Yes, I think it is.

Mike Lowery:
Don't you have some relatives that you need to go pick up?

Detective Mateo Reyes:
You went to far on that one.

Marcus Burnett:
Oh, can't he just be a cop? He got to be a n*gger too?

[Mike and Marcus pose as Klansmen during a drug drop; they expose their cover and point their guns at the launderers]

Mike Lowery and Marcus Burnett:
[singing] Bad boys, bad boys/What ya gonna do?/What ya gonna do when we come for you? [Marcus ad-libs the first verse]

Mike Lowery:
Dude, you gotta learn the words.

Burnett:
We usually only do the chorus.

Marcus Burnett:
[after Mike accidentally shots Marcus in the butt] What you mean, "We"? Motherf***er shot me in the ass, man.

Mike Lowery:
Who shot you in the ass?

Burnett:
Who? That "who" would be you.

Lowery:
Me? I shot you?

Burnett:
Yeah.

Lowery:
I mean, I was shootin'...yeah, I was...I did a lot of shootin'. I mean, I ain't saying that I shot you in the ass. I mean, I ain't saying I didn't shoot you... [looks] But damn! Somebody shot you in the ass!

Burnett:
Tell me about it.

Lowery:
Yo man, how does it feel?

Burnett:
It's hot man. smell my ass is burning.

[Marcus and Mike arrives at the Miami Police Headquarters to go see Captain Howard...]

Captain Howard:
[sees the two from a distance] Fellas. What's your job description? No, you two?—What is your job description? I'll tell you. [circles the words on the bulletin board] TNT: Tactical Narcotics Team. Keyword: "Tactical ?— Displaying finesse and subtlety in achieving a goal!" Tell me, gentlemen...[points to a live television]...what was subtle about your work today?

[Howard takes off his shoes at the outside of his office and is given an incident report]

Howard:
[reads the report] Twenty-two cars...and a boat, totaled? [to them] How did you sink a boat? [goes inside the office]

Mike Lowrey:
We didn't sink it?—

[Howard furiously kicks the trash bin to the side before he stops to compose himself]

Howard:
[exhales deeply] Whoosah...Whoosah...

[Marcus and Mike follows suit in taking off their shoes before entering Captain's office]

Howard:
All right, first, the positive: Thank God, no cops died. The negative: I got a police commissioner so far up my ass...that if he spits, it's-it's coming out of my mouth. But I know that there's always two sides to a story. So, what's yours?

Marcus Burnett:
Well, I was at a family barbecue.

Lowrey:
We got a tip that the Zoepounders were gonna do a hit on cash or drugs from this big-time X-Man.

Burnett:
That's what they call an ecstasy dealer on the streets.

Howard:
Marcus, I know what they call them. That's why I'm captain. It's cool. So, you got the drugs.

[Both men shakes their heads]

Howard:
No drugs. Oh, okay. All right. How about the money?

[Both men shakes their heads again]

Howard:
No money.

Lowrey:
Nope.

Howard:
Then who is this X-Man?

Burnett:
Captain, I was at a family barbecue. So I?—

Lowrey:
We don't know...[looks at Marcus] but we are going to find out.

Howard:
[points to the television] Well, then all that...was for nothing?

Lowrey:
We didn't do all of that. [turns and points to the television] If you look close--Watch. Hold up. Let me s?—There's DEA all over. Wait, the... Wait, hold up.

Howard:
[seething furiously] The DEA? Without consulting me?!

Lowrey:
[sees a car crashing into a pile of flaming cars] That's a DEA car, right there!

Howard:
CHRIST!! F***!!

Burnett:
[calming Howard] Cap. No. Remember your pressure points.

Howard:
Do my... My exercises. [steps away from his desk to compose himself]

[Mike's cell phone rings]

Lowrey:
[picks up] Holler at your boy.

Howard:
[eyes closed while holding his ears] Whoosah...

Lowrey:
Twenty-one thousand? What?!

[Marcus looks away in embarrassment since he damaged Mike's car]

Lowrey:
[glares at Marcus] Oh, kiss-my-black-ass. It was the dashboard! You know what?

Howard:
[exhales in relief] Better.

Lowrey:
[still glaring at Marcus] Yeah, you'll get your money. Somebody's on they way with your money. [hangs up the phone] Captain, is it possible we could discuss potential reimbursement...

Howard:
We don't cover personal property. That's why we drive police cars. So where do we go from here?

Lowrey:
Zoepounders knew exactly when to hit the drop, where to hit the drop, so we figure they know where the cash is. We find the cash, we find the X-Man.

Howard:
Hey, I'm through playing games, all right? I have three cops critical. I got kids dying on my streets from souped-up X. I do not want these animals taking over my city. Do you understand? So I want you guys to do whatever you do, whatever it takes, but do it now.

Marcus Burnett:
[during a gunfight] Sir, we just want to talk!

Mike Lowery:
You want to talk?! All right, go ahead, go ahead.

Burnett:
We're not Immigration!

Lowery:
[gunfire continues] They can't hear you 'cause they still shootin' at you!

Burnett:
F***ing Haitians in a f***ing little-ass room with f***ing guns! Sh*t!

[After a gunfight involving Haitian gang members...]

Haitian Gang Member:
Don't shoot. Don't shoot, man. Don't kill me.

Marcus Burnett:
[Brushes himself off] Bullets and all... Excuse me.

Mike Lowrey:
You all right, man?

Burnett:
[Regaining composure] Apologize to that man. Apologize to that man. [Smacks himself repeatedly] Apologize! Apologize.

Burnett:
[Turns to gang member] Hey, listen, I owe you...It's just that, you know, you was disrespect... But that don't mean it give me the right, though. It don't. Excuse me. Whoosah. Whoosah. [Spin kicks the gang member to the face] Whoosah, motherf***er!

Lowrey:
[To gang member] See, the interesting thing is he's the one of us that's not pissed off.

Gang Member:
I don't know nothing.

Lowrey:
Whoa, hold up! I didn't ask you no question yet!

Gang Member:
I don't know nothing.

Lowrey:
Lying already?

Gang Member:
No, get...

Lowrey:
How'd you know about the drop?

Gang Member:
I don't know nothing!

Lowrey:
Stop lying!

Burnett:
Do you know anything? I-I'm gonna be nice about it. Do you know anything? Let's ask some other suspects. Hey, look, man, f*** it. Let's try this. Let's talk to his homeys. [Sits down next to a dead gang member] Hey, look here, man. Can you tell me who was driving the black Suburban? [to Mike] Oh, he don't know nothing. His brains is under the end table. [Turns to his right to see another dead gang member] Oh! He can't tell us sh*t, Mike. He's all f***ed up.

Lowrey:
What's your point?

Burnett:
[Stands up] Dead suspects can't say sh*t.

Lowrey:
[Points his gun to the gang member's head] Well, it seems like live suspects don't say sh*t either, so I'll hot this dude here. Save us the paperwork.

Gang Member:
I don't know nothing! I don't do motherfucking surveillance, man. [Frantically points to a camcorder] He do surveillance. He don't let nobody touch his camera.

Lowrey:
[Looks at the footage in the camcorder] What's on that camera?

Burnett:
Trigger Mike strikes again.

[Mike & Marcus take the dealers' surveillance video to nearest electronics store and go to a private testing room to see everything, but somehow personal issues come out]

Mike Lowery:
[describes with hands] Look here. This is our little boundary box. So we gonna take the word flaccid and we're gonna put it in there with my mom's titties with your erection problems, and we're gonna close this box and we're gonna throw this b*tch in the ocean. And the only way that you can get to this box is you got to be motherfucking Jacques Cousteau. We cool? [suddenly realizes that they're now being watched all the while by store customers] Oh sh*t. We gotta go.

Mother:
[complaining to manager] In front of my babies, you got porno and homo shows up in here?! What kinda freak-ass store is this?! [sees Lowery and Burnett as they leave] And you two motherfuckers need Jesus! [to children] Cover your ears, baby.

Mike Lowery:
[pretending to be drunk] Marcus! Nigga, who that is at the door?

Marcus Burnett:
It's Reggie!

Lowery:
Who the f*** is Reggie?

Burnett:
Came to take Megan out.

Lowery:
[walks over to Reggie] What you want, nigga?

Reggie:
I'm here to take his daughter out.

Lowery:
What's your name?

Reggie:
Reggie.

Lower:
Man, I heard the motherf***er say your name Reggie. You wanna be takin' Megan out?

Reggie:
Yes, sir.

Lowery:
How old is you?

Reggie:
15.

Lowery:
Sh*t, nigga, you at least 30.

[At the Spanish Palms Mortuary, Mike lifts a sheet covering a dead woman's corpse and sees her huge breasts]

Marcus Burnett:
Mike, have some dignity!

Mike Lowery:
What? I ain't doin' nothin'.

Burnett:
Cover the titties.

Lowery:
What-what-what am I gonna do with these big-ass dead titties?

Burnett:
But you're lookin' at them.

Lowery:
There's...something's seriously wrong with your brain, man.

Burnett:
Just cover up the titties.

Lowery:
God...damn!

[while posing as pest-control workers at Tapia's house, Marcus sees two rats mating]

Marcus Burnett:
Mike! There's a papa rat humping the sh*t out of this mama rat. No, he's straight pile-driving her!

Mike Lowrey:
Now, how is that information gonna help me do my job?

Burnett:
They f*** just like us!

[Johnny shoots his cousin/assistant Roberto in the forehead after Marcus and Mike investigate his mansion]

Johnny's Mother:
Johnny! Johnny, what happened to Roberto?

Johnny Tapia:
He killed himself, Mama. Se pegó un tiro!

Johnny's Mother:
Ay!

Johnny:
Very sad.

Johnny's Mother:
Make sure and write a letter to his mother.

Johnny:
I'll do it.

Johnny's Mother:
Okay, bye.

[Burnett is irritated at how the State Department wants to handle Syd's kidnapping]

Marcus Burnett:
You know, by the time y'all finish being diplomatic, my sister could be in a f***ing box. This is bullshit! [storms off; Mike follows him in another room.]

Mike Lowery:
He ain't getting away from us that easy. ... We ride together, we die together. Bad boys for life. [moves to a teary-eyed Marcus and they embrace each other] We just gotta do it ourselves, man.

[DEA and SWAT operatives enter room]

DEA Agent Tony Dodd:
Don't know you. You look like you're about to do something stupid. I'm in.

TNT Agent Fanuti:
Dodd tell you how f***ing crazy us ex-Delta guys are?

Det. Marco Vargas:
Hey Marcus, my brother Tito, lives in Cuba. He's a little crazy, but he's hooked up with the underground. Weapons, men, a safe house. Whatever we need.

Det. Yul Vazquez:
[steps in] You can forget about passports baby and all that stuff, because if the Cubans catch us, we're all dead.

Mike Lowery:
Rodney, I hear there's a boat on fire off the coast of Cuba.

Rodney:
Don't you think we oughta break international waters to help them out?

Lowery:
That's my dawg.

Marcus Burnett:
Point of no return. [to DEA operatives and SWAT troopers] I want to thank you all from the bottom of my heart. [to Mike, offering hand-slap] Mike, good lu-

Lowery:
Tell me when we get back.

[Johnny and his daughter gaze at the painting that was near-finished...]

Johnny's Daughter:
Papi, you look like Jesus.

Johnny:
Why they call this The Last Supper?

Johnny's Daughter:
It was the last time they were all together before Jesus was crucified.

Johnny:
Crucified? Hold your ears. [to the painters] Hey, you. Listen to me. THIS IS F***ING DEPRESSING! You understand?! I mean, who had this f***ing idea? I just want little angels looking down on me.

Mike Lowery:
Vargas, we're not gonna make it to the tunnel! Go to Plan B! We're going to Plan B!

Marcus Burnett:
What Plan B?!

Lowery:
[pause] Man, you don't pay attention to sh*t, do you?!

Syd:
[as they start arguing in the middle of the gunfight] Are you f***ing shitting me?! Let's go!

Detective Mateo Reyes:
[in the escape tunnel] Plan B? What the hell is Plan B?

Marcus Burnett:
[driving with Mike down a hill, through cocaine-processing shacks, in a stolen Hummer] Is this still Plan B?

Mike Lowery:
Naw, this is definitely Plan C!