Bad Boys II

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Bad Boys II is a 2003 film about two loose-cannon narcotics cops investigating the flow of ecstacy into Florida from a Cuban drug cartel.

Directed by Michael Bay. Written by Jerry Stahl and Ron Shelton.
If you can't stand the heat, get out of Miami. (taglines)

Det. Mike Lowrey

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  • [During a car chase] You know, Dan Marino should definitely buy this car. Well, not this one, 'cause I'm gonna fuck this one up, but he should definitely get one like it.

Det. Marcus Burnett

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  • [Face down on a stretcher, on the way to the hospital] You know, unlike you, Mike, my parents didn't leave me no trust fund. I got real-world issues to deal with, man. I'm not in it for the thrills. [Behind him, Mike is mouthing every word in perfect synchrony and rolling his eyes]

Dialogue

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[Mike and Marcus pose as Klansmen during a drug drop; they expose their cover and point their guns at the launderers]
Marcus Burnett: Blue power, motherfuckers! Miami PD!
Mike Lowery: Aw, damn. It's the Negroes!
Mike Lowery and Marcus Burnett: [Singing] Bad boys, bad boys/What ya gonna do?/What ya gonna do when we come for you?
Mike Lowery: [Referring to Marcus habitually ad-libbing the first verse] 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"? Motherfucker 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 shooting... Yeah, I was... I did a lot of shooting. 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.
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: Fucking Haitians in a fucking little-ass room with fucking guns! Shit!
[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 bitch 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 shit. 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.
Marcus Burnett: Megan, what's the name of this boy taking you to the movies?
Mike Lowery: Reggie. Daddy, please don't embarrass me and ask him a lot of questions. Everybody knows you're a cop, and it makes people nervous.
Marcus Burnett: Well, why nervous? He on crack? [Opens door to Mike Lowery while holding golf club] It's cool? Yeah. Come in.
Mike Lowery: What'd you...? I got a sneak and peek. Judge Sinclair said we can go into the mortuary tonight. We can't touch nothing, but if we find something... he'll give us a righteous warrant.
Marcus Burnett: You love pissing Captain Howard off, don't you?
Mike Lowery: It's what I do. So when you start playing golf? Hey, so you real serious about this transfer thing, huh? I mean, you been quitting for 10 years. I just always thought it was... how you dealt with all this shit.
Marcus Burnett: It's what's best for me and my family. Look, I'm gonna get my stuff, man.
Mike Lowery: [Looking through a high school yearbook picture of himself looking extremely nerdy, voice over of his signing] "We ride together, we die together. [Aloud] Bad boys for life."
Marcus Burnett: [Walking to front door] We getting old, Mike. One of them young punks coming to take my baby out on her first date. [Slams open both front doors] Who the FUCK are you?!
Reggie: Hi Mr. Burnett, I'm Reggie.
Marcus Burnett: Watcha doin' here?!
Reggie: I'm here to take out Megan.
Marcus Burnett: [Tilts head to Reggie to hear him clearer] What?!
Reggie: I'm here to take out Megan.
Marcus Burnett: How old are you?
Reggie: I'm fifteen, Mr. Burnett
Marcus Burnett: Motherfucker, you look thirty! Show some ID.
Reggie: I don't have none on me.
Marcus Burnett: You don't "have no ID", [Shoves Reggie against door] git'cho ass up against that wall. [Starts patting him down] What is your problem? You think you know it all. Little young Thundercats. Got joints on you?
Reggie: No.
Marcus Burnett: You smoke that shit? !
Reggie: No, sir.
Marcus Burnett: You trying to get my daughter high?! Do you smoke that shit?!
Mike Lowery: [Pretending to be drunk from foyer holding bottle] Marcus! Nigga, who that is at the door?
Marcus Burnett: It's Reggie!
Mike Lowery: Who the fuck is Reggie?!
Marcus Burnett: Came to take Megan out!
Mike Lowery: [Walks over to Reggie] What you want, nigga?!
Reggie: I'm here to take his daughter out.
Mike Lowery: What's your name?!
Reggie: Reggie.
Mike Lowery: Man, I heard the motherfucker say your name Reggie! You wanna be takin' Megan out?!
Reggie: Yes, sir.
Mike Lowery: How old is you?!
Reggie: 15.
Mike Lowery: Shit, nigga, you at least thirty!
Marcus Burnett: This is Mike.
Mike Lowery: Can you fight?
Reggie: Yeah.
Mike Lowery: You can fight? [Intimidatingly jerks head forward] Boo, motherfucker. You can't fight. Look at you...
Marcus Burnett: Cut it out.
Mike Lowery: I want to know if... when somebody taking my niece out, I want to know if he can fight. Somebody might come say something, the nigga can't fight, she can't go.
Marcus Burnett: This is Megan's godfather, okay? He just got out the joint.
Mike Lowery: Why you putting all my business in the street?
Marcus Burnett: They call him...
Mike Lowery: Why you putting all... [Draws pistol waving it around] I got out of jail! I ain't going back! I ain't going back! What's wrong with you? You're scared. [Points gun near Reggie's head who dodges repeatedly] You ain't seen a gun before?
Marcus Burnett: Stop pointing the gun at the boy.
Mike Lowery: Look, don't you disrespect me in front of company. Let the gun go off. Nigga, you a big, tall, Ludacris-looking motherfucker, ain't you? You rap? Move. Get outta tha' way. If I see you on tha' highway, get tha' fuck out of my way...
Reggie: No.
Marcus Burnett: Hey, Mike! [To Reggie] Now, listen. Have my daughter home at 10:01. If she ain't home at 10:01, I'm in the car, okay? Lock, loaded and hunting your motherfucking ass down. Do you hear me? Speak the fuck up, Reggie!
Mike Lowery: I'll go with him. If I'm there, know what it'll be? Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, nigga. That's what it'll be. Marcus!
Theresa Burnett: [Walking up with Megan] Reggie, baby, I am so sorry. Forgive Megan's dad and his silly friend.
Marcus Burnett: [To Reggie] You a virgin?
Reggie: Yes.
Marcus Burnett: Good. Keep it that way! Ain't gonna be no fucking tonight!
Theresa Burnett: Baby, the red shirt's nice. You guys have a good time.
Mike Lowery: You ever made love to a man?
Reggie: No.
Mike Lowery: You want to?
Reggie: [Whimperingly] No, sir.
Marcus Burnett: [To Megan] Hey, have a good time, baby. Go. Go.
[At the Spanish Palms Mortuary, Mike lifts a sheet covering a dead woman's corpse and sees [[w:breast implants|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 shit 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 fuck just like us!
[At the lobby of Mike's apartment, he comes out wearing a new purple suit preparing for his and Marcus' meeting with Syd]
Marcus Burnett: What are you a cop or a model?
Mike Lowery: What you talking about, man? I put something on, I like lookin' good, what?
Burnett: For who?
Lowery: Hey, don't hate the playa, hate the game.
Burnett: I hate the tailor.
[Burnett is irritated at how the State Department wants to handle Syd's kidnapping and return]
Marcus Burnett: You know, by the time y'all finish being diplomatic, my sister could be in a fucking box. This is bullshit! [storms off; Mike follows him in another room.]
Mike Lowery: He ain't getting away from us that easy. [Looks at Marcus] 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 here tell you how fucking 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] And you can forget about passports baby and all that stuff, because if the Cubans catch us, we're all dead.
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 shit, do you?!
Syd: [As they start arguing in the middle of the gunfight] Are you fucking 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!

Cast

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See also

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Wikipedia
Wikipedia
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