Now for a song [i]I[/i] wrote. Now, this is a story all about how my life got flipped turned upside down, and I'd like to take a minute, just sit right there; I'll tell you how I became the prince of a town called Bel-Air. In West Philadelphia, born and raised, on the playground is where I spent most of my days. Chillin' out, maxin' relaxin' all cool and all shootin' some b-ball outside of the school, when a couple of guys who were up to no good started making trouble in my neighborhood. I got in one little fight and my mom got scared, and said, "you're moving with your aunty and uncle in Bel-Air." I begged and I pleaded with her day after day, but she packed my suitcase and sent me on my way. She gave me a kiss, and then she gave me my ticket; I put my walkman on and said, "I might as well kick it." First class? Yo, this is bad. Drinkin' orange juice out of a champagne glass? Is this what the people of Bel-Air livin' like? Hmm, this might be alright. But wait, I hear they're prissy, bourgeois, all that. Is this the type of place they just send this cool cat? I don't think so; I'll see when I get there. I hope they're prepared for the Prince of Bel-Air. Well, the plane landed, and when I came out there was a dude who looked like a cop standing there with my name out. I ain't tryin' to get arrested yet, I just got here. I sprang with the quickness like lightning; disappeared. I whistled for a cab, and when it came near, the licence plate said 'Fresh' and it had a dice in the mirror. If anything, this cab was rare, but I thought, "nah', forget it - yo Holmes, to Bel-Air!" I pulled up to the house about 7 or 8, and I yelled at the cabby, "yo holmes, smell ya later!" I looked at my kingdom; I was finally there to sit on my throne as the Prince of Bel-Air.