Azrane — Jeune du ghetto

Ghetto.
Where the lights stay low, ghetto.
Where the real ones grow, ghetto.
Cold streets, warm hearts, ghetto.
Where the stories start, ghetto.
No fake, no show, ghetto.
Only people know, ghetto.
Through the pain and smoke, ghetto.
That's the life we row.
Concrete walls in a broken street.
Young souls running on tight feet.
Cold nights taught me how to stand.
Had to build with my own two hands.
Old cars parked by the corner store.
Same faces in a thousand more.
Everybody chasing something better.
Trying to escape the bad weather.
No easy road, no lucky sign.
Just long days and a focused mind.
Every scar got a reason behind.
Every loss left a lesson to find.
Streetlights blink when the night comes down.
Bass shakes deep through the whole town.
No matter where the future goes,
Part of me stays where the old streets glow.
Ghetto.
Where the lights stay low, ghetto.
Where the real ones grow, ghetto.
Cold streets, warm hearts, ghetto.
Where the stories start, ghetto.
No fake, no show, ghetto.
Only people know, ghetto.
Through the pain and smoke, ghetto.
That's the life we row.
Black hoodie walking after dark.
City sounds like a beating heart.
Raindrops falling on the avenue.
Every corner got a different view.
Money talks,
But it can't replace the memories from the old same place.
Friends changed when the years went by.
Some stayed close, some said goodbye.
Deep bass coming from the basement.
Every song became a statement.
No luxury could ever buy.
Feeling when the block come alive.
I learned patience from the struggle line.
Learned respect takes more than time.
No shortcuts, no borrowed name.
Just my story, just my game.
Ghetto.
Still here.
Still strong.
Still moving.
Morning sun on the empty road.
Another day, another load.
Dreams bigger than the walls around.
Still hear that underground sound.
No need to hide where I came from.
Every battle made me become someone stronger than yesterday.
Someone who found another way.
The city talks through every stone.
Reminds me I was never alone.
Even when the world moved slow,
The streets kept teaching what I know.
Ghetto.
Where the lights stay low, ghetto.
Where the real ones grow, ghetto.
Cold streets, warm hearts, ghetto.
Where the stories start, ghetto.
No fake, no show, ghetto.
Only people know, ghetto.
Through the pain and smoke, ghetto.
That's the life we row.
Ghetto.
Concrete dreams.
Late night streets.
Heavy bass.
Still breathing.