Baumgartner's coke habit isn't the secret she thinks it is, and it gives us leverage."
"Coke?"
"Coke, yeah, you know: cocaine. When she powders her nose, she literally powders her nose.

...Cocaine. The stuff is everywhere.

I just love cocaine.

[Referring to marijuana dealers] Just soon they see you, just, "Nigga, nigga, nigga...nigga. You remember that shit I gave you last week, nigga? It's nothing, nigga. It's nothing. It's nothing, nigga. Nigga, it's nothing. This shit right here, nigga! This shit right here, nigga! Right here, this shit, nigga! This shit here, nigga!" Always has some fucked up name. "It's kryptachronicunnalite, nigga!" Always has some fucked up ass name. "Nigga, this shit here, nigga. This shit here, nigga. This shit's called Deaf, nigga." You be like, "Nigga, that don't even sound attractive. What the...You mean I'm gonna hit it and die, nigga? Is that what..." "No nigga, not Death, nigga, Deaf. You hit this shit twice, nigga, you can't hear shit!"

The news call it crack / I call it diet coke

We were talking briefly about cocaine...yeah. Anything that makes you paranoid and impotent, give me more of that!

My love is powdered sunshine. Just add water. (Warning: Do NOT attempt to snort it or distribute as a healthy cocaine substitute.)

Cocaine addiction is God's way of saying "You make too damn much money!"

Burning cocaine is the worst smell in the world. It smells like burning plastic and rat poison combined. A friend of mine once told me, that when you want to know something about anything, put some fire under it. The fire brings out everything. You want to know something about a motherfucker? Put some fire under his ass. Well, when you put some fire under that cocaine, you know what it's made out of.

Cocaine is illegal because it is made in Latin America, not because it is worse than whisky.

I think I was once given cocaine but I sneezed so it didn't go up my nose. In fact, it may have been icing sugar.

Until you've got your mouth full of cocaine, you don't know what kissing is. One kiss goes on from phase to phase like one of those novels by Balzac and Zola and Romain Rolland and D. H. Lawrence and those chaps. And you never get tire. You're on fourth speed all the time, and the engine purrs like a kitten, a big white kitten with the stars in its whiskers.

Your kiss is bitter with cocaine.

Stab your demoniac smile to my brain,
Soak me in cognac, love, and cocaine