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 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; 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 suit case 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; rrinking 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!