Hard 2 Smile

[Talking - Trae] You know I never did understand Why they always told me to smile Shit it ain't too much shit out here to smile fo' Real talk - you know it's still Assholes By Nature, peep game [Verse 1 - Trae] I remember comin up labeled the lil'nigga Watchin niggas fuck over they own, but see I kept it realer But bein real ain't always what niggas make it to be I never thought we'd make it and I'd have niggas hatin a G I got enough shit that I deal with on the day to day Pennitentaries and life after death don't seem to go away Even though I never know the outcome Somethin say to pray, and try to do my best to understand he right around the way I got a call from Mr.Rogers just the other day - telling me he by my side I'm like what the fuck you talkin bout - until he told me Loinna died It fucked me up so much I couldn't even go the wait But if her family call I'm a make sure that they straight It's like this part of my life I live is damn near mastered The mo'people I love, the mo'they get took away faster Sometimes I feel I talk to God alittle mo'then a pastor Probably to live and make sure my son never become a basterd I never been the one to quit, I always been a leader But I feel this world is like a bitch and I know I don't need her If I knew it was this I'd never took the time to meet her So I feel the frown across my face, the only way to greet her In the process of bein'Trae, I missed out as a child Probably because reality my style And they told my cousin death before he's thirty after checkin his file He damn near twenty - eight so how the fuck am I suppose to smile? [Talking - Styles P] I don't know my nigga, I ask myself the same shit everyday How the fuck am I suppose to smile? Life's real over here, you know [Verse 2 - Styles P] Styles don't smile, the hood too foul The lil'niggas is wild, man lost trial Hit e'm with some numbers he ain't even gon'chow He ain't even sleepin, he been thinkin 'bout his child It's real fucked up but he won't see him for awhile Same bullshit tryna get you a money pile We all see the reefer, or the kill - doors locked I keep the tech with the air hose cocked Now I don't wanna shoot or get shot, but Paniro's not Gon'fuck with these fuck niggas I air those blocks It's real hard to sleep, when it's money on the mind Murder on the mind, puffin on a dutch with a fist full of iron Somebody's mom cryin, cause somebody's boy dyin It's the same ole shit, from the wait to the funeral same ole trip Crack money, rap money the same ole grip Ask Trae could I smile out in Texas, livin wreckless Said the cops gon'get you and niggas'll leave you breathless Shit I'm a winner, mo'like a sinner Tryna make it to dinner - then live after breakfast [Talking - Styles P] You know, Trae - S.P How the fuck are we suppose to smile? Nigga answer me that And maybe I'll fuckin smile, you know