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Growing up in the ghetto I pushed the pedal to the medal Thinking the drama was cool Fighting was smooth I was a fool  To believe that was true Moving to the burbs
As The Days Go By, Children laugh and play, later grow up to run and hide away The ghetto streets are the gateway to hell, soon they will grow only to hear the prison bells.
  Crop top on; my hair oh so flat, sleek, and long.   Jordans are my way, makeup on everyday.   Oh I'm such a thot! Who just got bought!     Yesterday I saw a boy   Who's name is "Roy".
Ain’t about that life, ain’t about them drugs I used to be and i wanted to snort coke Wanted to smoke weed like a hood rat Didn’t though cause i was too scared
Everyday that I awake I thank the creator for the day then I brush my teeth with toothpaste and wash my face. As I pray for my sake Lord my soul is yours to keep, guide me through this day and keep me safe like a sheep
Did someone put me here to live  or did they put me here to survive I live around people that don't have morals  but know the means of surviving  many of them strive to do good 
A get away from norm, the every day racial tension in Newark takes its toll, store after store I am pre-judged as a thief ,  Not knowing I am a college student who just happens to be striving for a degree.
Jimmy was smashed by his giant wings 
Ghetto babies rap their own lullabies because mommy just can't seem to hush their screeching cries For the love that lies within the cracks of her arms that enjoy being kissed by the needle of her one true love
Waking up in the Ocean of Noise,Smoke and Dirt All I think was, Is it not going to death but No its already part of me Looking at my street all I could see Holes and it depth
Silver Lining   What good is this life if I aint gonna live What goods a second chance if I never forgive? watch me take advantage of the time that I got
I live in a city And it is a pity For ten years it was tolerated Now- I'm exasperated There isn't shit to do When you're full of vigor and youth I live in what you call the ghetto- I call it the hood
Red, black, and blue
As I drive, watching my city streets roll past me I see the tear stained faces of broken homes And children being raised by strangers. I see the garbage cluttered streets of SE,
Elevating from wilted lettuce 
Like a Concrete Jungle Animals of the street standing on the corner bringing all the heat brown buidings look like sideways slaveships hold about 1000s people in each complex black
Let me introduce you to my world. You may think you know what it is but i can assure you you're wrong. See i live in the ghetto, and by definition that means a building damned near condemned but that not where i live. I live in the ghetto.
A boy will leave Neverland today
Dear teacher Our GPA is not our price tag my worth is not decided by my proximity to the magic amount of 4.0 dollars. It's obvious what you think of the students not sitting in your uppity advanced placement seats.
Stuck Between The Transition Between Hard Times And Sucess, It's Oh So Hard To Not Stress,  My Soul Intact, But My Mind, In Mesh  Good And Foul Intentions Sowen Into A Soild/ Flimsy Net
Jackson and Pulaski From which many weeds grew These weeds beared the fruit of their labor Within the next generation of seeds
We come from troubled wombs , our homes resemble tombs. We come from polluted souls , our livess resemble holes. Empty and devalued , longing for the close.
  She ask the teacher for the pass so she can get out of class. That teacher teach too much and she don’t care if she pass. Her environment had her turning. No time for learning.
There they are. they're sitting in that car. I've never seen a Lamborghini before. yet there it is at my school.   There they are. sitting in that house.
Some people think this is a game SOme people think poetry is lame But to me poetry is life A way to express my thoughts, and get me through the strife See my life is far from easy
The Acre of Broken Dreams (Ghetto Concrete Lines) By Majae Brown Jackson and Pulaski Broken acre of Dreams From which many weeds grew
Pittsburgh, PA; Glowing lights. Downtown; Broken fights. This is where I spend my nights. I'm in for it, Jesus Christ.   You see the colored flags, the shoes on telephones wires.
The city everyone wants to leave. I guess it’s part of growing up: Forgetting.
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