West side house.
By: Hayden Mills.

When I was eight, seven, six,
The older boys and girls who lived in my area,
Had tight cliques,
Most of the boys Latino, Mexican,
White, black,
Listening to 2pac and wakaflaka,
"Let ya nutz hang" was the matto for some,
Brother vs. Brother one was ended with the sound of a gun,
One bullet made the heart go numb,
Now this doesn't mean any of us lived in the streets,
Yet a lot of kids my age claimed to be,
Most of us had a warm place and hot plate to eat,
No ghetto,
But the older boys in my area still dressed in black sagged geans,
Black shirts with the white one underneath,
Shaved heads or hats or bandanas,
A chain and a watch,
So the pretty girls would watch.