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I grew up in a really bad neighborhood in Oakland. I remember when I was 12, a drive by occurred on a neighboring house due to a botched up drug deal that occurred. When I walked to school, I would often be offered drugs by various upper classmen in order to recruit me for their gangs and such. When I refuse, they would mock me and tease me would push me around, but never hurt me seriously enough so that the school teachers would care, as they themselves have a hard time looking out for their own safety. But the worst day came when I accidently scratched some guy's new car with my bike and that guy just happened to by some sort of gang leader. He got really pissed and started beating me along with his friends. I came back home scarred, and mom my mom got scared and that I was moving in with my aunt and uncle in the town of bel air. I was flown to California, first class as paid by my uncle, and pulled up to a house to sit on my throne as the prince of bel air.
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