Syd: What are you doing on Tujunga? Nobody takes Tujunga. You’re wasting time. Just make a left right here.
McKenna: I know how to get there.
Syd: Dude, the app says there’s a shortcut…
McKenna: The app can suck it. I know LA.
Gil: Sista gal is right. The app is always faster.
McKenna: Wait a minute, is someone talking in the backseat? Someone I told to shut his face five minutes ago. I ain’t playing with you, Gil.
Gil: Why you giving the man grief?
Syd: Because you made us chase you, jackass.
Gil: My people were born to run. I have an obligation to flee.
Syd: OK, you’re fake ass Jamaican accent is getting on my damn nerves.

Izzie: You got a perp in the trunk.
Syd: No, Izzie, we wouldn’t do that. We have a snitch in the trunk.
Gil: I prefer confidential informant.

Fletcher: Can’t your boys down at the LAPD handle this?
Syd: No, actually, they’d be way too busy serving a warrant at a brothel in Koreatown fronting as a message parlor.

Patrick: It’s weird right?
McKenna: She’s a typical teenager. She does it for attention. It’ll cost us like $300.
Patrick: What, in therapy?
McKenna: Yeah, retail therapy – bags, shoes, jewelry.

McKenna: Syd, I need you to be straight with me. Did you burn down Club Cirque?
Syd: Yeah, I did.
McKenna: Shit. I wasn’t expecting that.

Joseph: Have you really thought about what you’re doing? I mean, how does it end, Syd? Want to get yourself killed?
Syd: So now you’re worried about me, hmm? Cute.
Joseph: You’re my daughter. Let me help you.
Syd: I already have a partner.
Joseph: Keeping running. Don’t force her to choose your partnership over your badge.
Syd: Wow, look at you giving advice on partnerships.

Syd: You know you could get yourself killed sneaking up on people like that?
McKenna: Says the lady with the gun standing over a dead body in a tub.
Syd: What are you doing here?
McKenna: Following you. Why are you here?
Syd: Looking for him.
McKenna: Looks like someone got to him before you did.

Joseph: I’m waiting for my daughter, Syd Syd.
Baines: Det. Baines. I didn’t know Syd had a father. I mean, you have to have a father. You know, sperm and the egg and the XY thing. It’s just that she never really talk about personal stuff.

Baines: Not exactly the plan I drew up, Syd.
Syd: I don’t like to wait.

Syd: Did you know about 20 years ago, Ray Sherman’s little brother Dante, he got shot trying to rob this place? His young Latina accomplice, she was the getaway driver, which probably why nobody could ever identify her. They were wanted in a series of robberies.
McKenna: OK, you made your point.
Syd: Oh, no, I was just getting to the good part. So, Dante, he wouldn’t give up his girl. So Dante went to prison for her, for his sweet little angel Nancy Perez. She would go visit him.
McKenna: That’s enough.
Syd: Is it? Is it enough? All that talk about, ‘I got your back. We’re in this together, Syd,’ that was bullshit.
McKenna: This is not the same…
Syd: He was in your house this morning. I get it, right. I get it. I know how it is. Dante didn’t give you up. You owe him, right?
McKenna: You don’t know shit, Syd.

Syd: Who’s on the mound?
Joseph: Kershaw, he’s a bull, stubborn, never gives in to a hitter.
Syd: That’s what makes him so great.
Joseph: Great as he is, he can’t get a win without a team behind him.

LA's Finest Season 1 Episode 2 Quotes

Izzie: You got a perp in the trunk.
Syd: No, Izzie, we wouldn’t do that. We have a snitch in the trunk.
Gil: I prefer confidential informant.

Syd: What are you doing on Tujunga? Nobody takes Tujunga. You’re wasting time. Just make a left right here.
McKenna: I know how to get there.
Syd: Dude, the app says there’s a shortcut…
McKenna: The app can suck it. I know LA.
Gil: Sista gal is right. The app is always faster.
McKenna: Wait a minute, is someone talking in the backseat? Someone I told to shut his face five minutes ago. I ain’t playing with you, Gil.
Gil: Why you giving the man grief?
Syd: Because you made us chase you, jackass.
Gil: My people were born to run. I have an obligation to flee.
Syd: OK, you’re fake ass Jamaican accent is getting on my damn nerves.