Styles P - Hard 2 Smile lyrics

[Talking - Trae] You know I never did understand Why they always told me to smile sh** it ain't too much sh** out here to smile fo' Real talk - you know it's still a**holes By Nature, peep game [Verse 1 - Trae] I remember comin up labeled the lil'n***a Watchin n***as f** over they own, but see I kept it realer But bein real ain't always what n***as make it to be I never thought we'd make it and I'd have n***as hatin a G I got enough sh** that I deal with on the day to day Pennitentaries and life after d**h 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 f** you talkin bout - until he told me Loinna died It f**ed 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 b**h 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 d**h before he's thirty after checkin his file He damn near twenty - eight so how the f** am I suppose to smile? [Talking - Styles P] I don't know my n***a, I ask myself the same sh** everyday How the f** 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'n***as 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 f**ed up but he won't see him for awhile Same bullsh** tryna get you a money pile We all see the reefer, or the k** - doors locked I keep the tech with the air hose co*ked Now I don't wanna shoot or get shot, but Paniro's not Gon'f** with these f** n***as 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 sh**, 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 n***as'll leave you breathless sh** 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 f** are we suppose to smile? n***a answer me that And maybe I'll f**in smile, you know