Rumor is America is beautiful. Whoever started that has obviously never been to the ghetto. I definitely don't agree with that. Been here all my life. It's described by many words, but beautiful is not one of them. I guess the ghetto is just not apart of this America called beautiful.
It's apart of the hidden America. The America where you hear the sound of blasting car stereos on every corner. The unseen, unbothered America. The only citizens of this America wear badges or abuse their welfare. I can't front though, the ghetto is full of love.
The kids laugh together as they all cause mischief. The mothers all rest peacefully in their beds as their daughters sneak in young thugs and become mothers themselves. The men behave like boys standing around throwing dice, holding beer bottles like huggies at a child's birthday party. The teenage girls parade around in advertising clothing attempting to sell themselves to the next no good nigga. Then there is the young man. Boy oh boy. What could I say about him. He's sexy, smart, poetic, and the only one of his kind. His name is Jarrett Michaels. I see his tail every single day in my mirror. Every other nigga in my hood is a boy not a young, old, or even real man. I guess they do love the streets, and the streets definitely love them back.
I mean Mosby Court is the absolute biggest project in Richmond, Virginia. Those who were born and raised here only know this and love to hear stories from those who move here, which is pretty much one person a year. Everybody is family though. The only thing left to say now is "Welcome To My Hood."
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Truth Is
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