deepundergroundpoetry.com
My Ghetto is Real
My ghetto is real.
My ghetto is not perfect.
My ghetto isn't shiny like those white neighborhoods I see on television.
My ghetto isn't photo-shopped like those models on TV- That don't look like me.
My ghetto is real. Straight up.
Our lives depend on guns. Pull that trigger or your done.
We don't have insurance, so we hit and we run.
You call it stealing; we call it surviving.
You call it ignorance; we call it thriving.
Ignorant to what? The white man's reality.
I'm sorry but that ain’t gonna get me my next meal.
I live in a place where we learn about what's real.
There's no censorship in my hood; I've heard my three-year-old cousin cuss.
I told him it was nap time. Caught him saying he didn't give a you know what.
Yall want us to go to school. And what am I supposed to learn?
Cause I never get taught about [font=Georgia]my history even during the month that we earned.
Then I have these stuck up white people talking about why don't yall get a special month.
Cause you get the other eleven. Still wanna be special like us?
We go to school so the white man can teach me to memorize.
Then I'm back out on the streets where I live, and I gotta improvise.
Don't tell me that I don't care about my future man.
You always judging me...thinking I don't give a damn.
I'm forced to trust the white man. The man who is forever changing his mind.
The Civil Rights Movement happened last century, and you wonder why we're still behind.
And trust me, I'm not making excuses because I know that I have to own up to the world I build.
But over here talking white ain’t cute..that mess gets you killed.
You think you know me.
You understand where I'm coming from?
It's cute that you think that, but I can't survive off of empathy.
Try walking not only in my shoes that are two sizes too small, but in my skin.
And then report back to me.
You've poisoned our bodies so now I'm doped up selling weed.
It doesn't matter how young; I was thirteen getting money.
You've poisoned our minds, and yes, I take it personally.
Because I'm hated by my own people if they're a couple of shades darker than me.
See, not all blacks are beautiful in society.
And I've got lighter skin, which equals more opportunities.
Yup, you're still judging me cause you think I'm making generalizations.
Damn, that was a big word. See I'm talking Caucasian.
You don't get me man, and you never will.
Yes, I'm ghetto, but my ghetto is real.[/font]
My ghetto is not perfect.
My ghetto isn't shiny like those white neighborhoods I see on television.
My ghetto isn't photo-shopped like those models on TV- That don't look like me.
My ghetto is real. Straight up.
Our lives depend on guns. Pull that trigger or your done.
We don't have insurance, so we hit and we run.
You call it stealing; we call it surviving.
You call it ignorance; we call it thriving.
Ignorant to what? The white man's reality.
I'm sorry but that ain’t gonna get me my next meal.
I live in a place where we learn about what's real.
There's no censorship in my hood; I've heard my three-year-old cousin cuss.
I told him it was nap time. Caught him saying he didn't give a you know what.
Yall want us to go to school. And what am I supposed to learn?
Cause I never get taught about [font=Georgia]my history even during the month that we earned.
Then I have these stuck up white people talking about why don't yall get a special month.
Cause you get the other eleven. Still wanna be special like us?
We go to school so the white man can teach me to memorize.
Then I'm back out on the streets where I live, and I gotta improvise.
Don't tell me that I don't care about my future man.
You always judging me...thinking I don't give a damn.
I'm forced to trust the white man. The man who is forever changing his mind.
The Civil Rights Movement happened last century, and you wonder why we're still behind.
And trust me, I'm not making excuses because I know that I have to own up to the world I build.
But over here talking white ain’t cute..that mess gets you killed.
You think you know me.
You understand where I'm coming from?
It's cute that you think that, but I can't survive off of empathy.
Try walking not only in my shoes that are two sizes too small, but in my skin.
And then report back to me.
You've poisoned our bodies so now I'm doped up selling weed.
It doesn't matter how young; I was thirteen getting money.
You've poisoned our minds, and yes, I take it personally.
Because I'm hated by my own people if they're a couple of shades darker than me.
See, not all blacks are beautiful in society.
And I've got lighter skin, which equals more opportunities.
Yup, you're still judging me cause you think I'm making generalizations.
Damn, that was a big word. See I'm talking Caucasian.
You don't get me man, and you never will.
Yes, I'm ghetto, but my ghetto is real.[/font]
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