As the snow flies on a cold and gray Chicago morn' A poor little baby child is born in the Ghetto and his mama cries 'Cause there's one thing that she don't need Is another hungry mouth to feed in the ghetto People don't you understand child needs a helping hand He'll grow to be an angry young man someday Take a look at you and me are we too blind to see Do we simply turn our heads and look the other way while the world turns And a hungry little boy with a running nose Plays in the streets as the cold wind blows in the ghetto and his hunger burns So he starts to roam the streets of night And he learns how to steal and he learns how to fight in the ghetto Then one night in desperation the young man breaks away He buys a gun steals a car tries to run but he don't get far and his mama cries As a crowd gathers round and the angry young man Paces down the street with a gun in his hand in the ghetto and as her young man dies On a cold and gray Chicago morn' another little baby child is born in the ghetto People don't you understand... (In the ghetto, in the ghetto, in the ghetto, in the ghetto) Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa. |
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