The Notorious B.I.G. - How I Act (Remix) lyrics

[Intro] [Hook: Ice Cube] x2 Even though I'm f**in with the po'-po' Them n***a know how I act in a low-low Slow mo', n***a check out my promo You mo'fo's can't f** with my mojo [Verse 1: Ice Cube] I am the wrong n***a, too f**in grown n***a To go for that n***a, I ain't 'cha ho n***a I got, a hair trigger, I am the dome splitter The deep-sea sniper, you got the wrong n***as Retire like Jigga, here comes the Attila the Hun k**in n***as for fun, these rappers is done The bigger they come, the harder they fall I burn like the sun, continue to ball He's got nuts and plus the Don touch And split the fine dutch, Starsky call Hutch He's laid, with some s*uts, up in some guts Just back, in the cut, he thinks he's King Tut Cain't f**, this n***a up, cause just, the n***a luck That n***as, really love him and tear the city up Uhh, even though I'm f**in with the po'-po' Them n***a know how I act in the low-low [Hook] x2 [Verse 2: 2Pac] Who me? A n***a livin' life like a G In that artillery keepin' n***as off of me I can't sleep living in these wicked times Peep, n***as after me cause they see I'm stacking G's and heat You can holler if you want to pleease I ain't runnin' with no punk crew be Enemies and my range is on You're in the danger zone My f**in' game is strong, hotline You s**as better find ya mind I got mine From hustling and busting them rhymes To my n***as up in Quentin Down on Rikers Isle stay rile But a n***a gotta use his styles These n***as don't know my style Quick to smile, juvenile, was a problem child Try to put me in the cross, but my force was wild b**h-made a** n***as don't know my style These n***as don't know my style Quick to smile, juvenile, was a problem child Try to put me in the cross, but my force was wild b**h-made a** n***as don't know my style [Hook] x2 [Verse 3: The Notorious B.I.G.] I'm hard, Jehovah said I'm barred from the pearly gates f** Him, I didn't wanna go to heaven anyway But my momma got me on my knees with my hands gripped Talkin' bout some "praise the Lord" sh** Hail Mary, f** her, I never knew her I'd probably screw her and dump her body in the sewer Our father, my pops stuck up dope spots big, black, and mean With the fifth by the Gabardine What you expected from his next of kin I'm loco bro, but ain't no Mexican I got nines in the bedroom, Glocks in the kitchen A shotty by the shower if you wanna shoot me while I'm sh**tin' The lesson from the Smith & Wesson is depressin' n***as keep stressin', the same motherf**in' question How many shots does it take, to make my heart stop And my body start to shake [Hook] x4