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 was where I spent most of my days. Chillin' out maxin' relaxin' all cool and all shooting 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. She said, "You're movin' with your auntie and uncle in Bel-Air."

I begged and 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 drinking orange juice out of a champagne glass. Is this what the people of Bel-Air living like? Hmm, this might be alright.

But wait I hear they're prissy, bourgeois, all that. Is this the type of place that 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 trying 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 license plate said "Fresh" and it had dice in the mirror. If anything I could say that this cab was rare, but I thought, "Nah, forget it" – "Yo, home to Bel-Air!"

I pulled up to the house about 7 or 8 and I yelled to the cabbie, "Yo home smell ya later!" I looked at my kingdom, I was finally there. To sit on my throne as the Prince of Bel-Air.