Take it, or you'll be bottom of the list.
I moved from a bedsit on a 'nice' very tiny council estate which was in fact fucking horrible as most of the residents were over 50s and they had somehow decided amongst themselves that this was an estate for that age group, so some of them REALLY had it in for me and the other young people (all two of them) living there.
So I ended up being moved after some pretty systematic bullying by my immediate neighbour across the hallway (in her 80s, churchgoer... the list is endless I will not bore you but it was sufficient for the council to move me!)...
I was offered no choice - a 2 bed detached house on the second worst estate in town. The 1st worst estate was literally next door (across the main road a 2 minute walk away) and had in that same month had a fatal shooting, drugs related (one dealer walked into anothers house and shot him dead where he sat in front of the tv).
I was not thrilled... but I was also deeply depressed and experiencing a mental breakdown.
It wasn't all happy clappy, for sure, there were some dodgy families nearby, some pretty violent things happened on the street on occasion, I did experience a fair bit of strangers banging on the door at 3am seeing a light on and either asking for the previous resident who appeared to have dealt weed, and just asking for a light/ciggy etc.
But within weeks the stuff directly affecting me calmed down, and this wasn't a place that 'had a dodgy reptuation a few years ago', this was a place that had a current dodgy reputation!
Within months, I was friends with next door, an irascible, crabby and often foul mouthed old lady who was housebound... and also brilliantly loyal, generous and kind. Then friends with a girl a few years younger than me who moved in next door but one.
At that point we were cooking for one another, pooling funds to buy food in bulk (all horribly poor!), taking the old bat to the supermarket (or going for her which was a heck of a lot faster), decorating our homes and sorting our gardens, minding one anothers dogs..
That may not be what you're after, but the point is I expected it to be fucking awful, and actually I made some friends there I still have to this day - the man who ran the corner shop opposite is still a friend more than 10 years after I moved 150 miles away. The lass next door but one... still one of my best friends... crabby old baggage died about six months after I left and I miss her still, she was in equal measure awful and fantastic.
To a large degree, these places are what you make them!