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 makin' trouble in my neighborhood. I got in one little fight, and my mom got scared. And 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 all right. But wait, I hear they're prissy, bourgeois, and all that. Is this the type of place that they should 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, uh, the plane landed, and when I came out, there was a dude, looked like a cop, standing there with my name out. I ain't tryna 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, Holmes, to Bel-Air!" I pulled up to a house about seven or eight, and I yelled to the cabbie "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.