You know I never did understand why they always told me to smile Shit It ain't too much shit I gave a smile for Real talk Yo still a asshole by nature Peep game I remember comin' up able to love nigga watchin' niggas fuck over They over sea I kept it reala But bein' real ain't really 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 Penitentiary's the life after death don't seem to go away Even though I never know the outcomes it's always safe to pray And try to do my best to understand he write a rhyme away I got a call from Mr. Rogers just the other day tellin' me he by my side I'm like what the fuck you talkin' 'bout 'til he told me Lorna died It f***ed me up so much I couldn't even go to the wake But if her family called I'm gon' make sure that they straight It's like this part of my life I live is damn near mastered The more people I love the more they get took away faster Sometimes I feel I talk to God a lil more than the pastor Prob'ly been livin' to make sure my son never become a bastard I've never been the one to quit I've always been the leader But I feel this world is like a bitch and I know I don't need her If I ever had this I never took the time to meet her So I feel a frown across my face the only way to greet her In the process of bein' Trae I missed out as a child Prob'ly 'cause reality must stop And they told my cousin death before he thirty after checkin' his pile He died at 28 so how the fuck am I supposed to smile shit I don't know my nigga I ask myself the same shit everyday How the fuck am I supposed to smile Life's real over here though Ya know Styles don't smile The hood too foul The lil' niggas is wild Men lost trial Hit 'em with some numbers he ain't eatin' doin' chow He ain't even sleepin' he been thinkin' 'bout his child It's real fucked up but he won't see him for a while Same bullshit try'na get you a money pile You don't see the reefer or the jail doors locked I keep a tech with the air holes cocked Now I don't wanna shoot or get shot But Pinero's not Gon' fuck with these fuck niggas or air those Lox It's real hard to sleep when its money on the mind and Murder on the mind Puffin' on the dutch with a fist full of iron Somebody mom cryin' 'cause somebody boy dyin' It's the same ol' shit Wait till the funeral Same ol' trip Crack money rap money The same ol' grip As Trae could've smiled out in Texas Livin' reckless If the cops gon' get you but niggas 'll leave you breathless shit I'm a winner More like a sinner Try'na make it to dinner Then live after breakfast Ya know Trae S.P. How the fuck are we suppose to smile Man Answer me that Maybe I'll fuckin' smile Why'know Nothin' to smile about These lil' niggas is wildin' out Do somethin' to 'em they dialin' out Everybody lookin' at you like you foulin' out Every hood everywhere that's what it's now about The shootas is half your age Give you half the gage Daily news half the page Known as a thug now he ain't just fly Couple months in the group home in D-F-Y Truthfully what could have been pended but never did And he slid As a youthful offender 'cause he's a kid Problem is The person he shot was connected He comin' home thinkin' he's sweet and don't expect it Big but he's still young To him it's still fun 360 waves new gear blue steel gun They say you ain't promised tomorrow They got the drop and hit him right in his head with a hollow
Written by: JOSEPH K PHILLIPS
Lyrics © EMI Music Publishing, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Universal Music Publishing Group, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind