Mr. T: Yeah, my main squeeze! Give me some.
Angel: 20 years ago that would have been more truth than jive, baby.
Captain Joe Marx: You said something before about my wanting to nail you? I'll tell you exactly where I sit. You're tough and mean. You don't own a job and you wear $300 suits. You drive a big fancy car. Buy a new car every year. Very impressive. But, it makes a guy like me wonder. And when I wonder, I watch. I listen. I think you're fuckin' around with the law, T. That's where I sit.
Billy Chi, Chalky's Goon: Chalky sent me to say he wants to see you on some business, Mr. T.
Mr. T: Go back and tell Chalky to kiss my black ass.
Mr. T: Keep an eye on my car, sucker! If anything happen to it, I'll take it out of your Black ass, you dig?
Pete: One man, Chalky. Just one man. Don't make him sound like a goddamn army.
Chalky Price: It only takes one man to wash you away. And T is the last man in this world I want lookin' for me.
Chalky Price: We got some trouble, T.
Mr. T: No, shit! All this free ass out here, puttin' your whores out of business.
Pete: After all, where's he go if he's lookin' for you? Down to your office, downtown. Black people all over... But, if you're gone, he comes lookin' for me. And that means the penthouse at Century Plaza. White people all over. He's carryin' a flag, if he comes down there. "See me. Here I am." We see him. We take him out.
Mr. T: Look, man, I'm not gonna hassle about bread. You know my price. I'll be at Jimmy's around 7:00. Make up your mind, you call me there. Now, get out. The two of you are fuckin' up a nice day.
Mr. T: Hey, dig it, Captain. I'm gonna run something for you, you listen. OK, now I got licenses to drive cabs, transport diamonds, tin bar, you name it, but I've got it. I also have a private-detective license, which not only allows me to carry a gun if I want to, but it lets me into the law library anytime. And I go, man. And what I read tells me that you either charge me or I walk out that door.
Mr. T: You know what's bothering me? Two things. One is I'm sorry that I can't sue you for false arrest. And the other is, there's no toilet paper in this cell.
Captain Joe Marx: Well, there's a bail bondsman outside asking about you. How'd he find out so fast, T?
Mr. T: Jungle drums, man.
Mr. T: You suuure are beautiful.
Cleo, T's Girl: You got the softest hair.
