I was born and raised in West Philadelphia, where I spent most of my days on the playground. I was chilling out, maxing, and relaxing, all cool, shooting some b-ball outside of my 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, so she told me that I was moving with my aunt 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 proceeded to give me my ticket, so I decided to just put on my Walkman and say,"I might as well kick it." Well, when my plane landed and I came out, there was some guy there looking like a cop, and he had my name out. I thought I was going to be arrested, I mean, I just got there, so I sprang with the quickness of lightning and disappeared, where I waited for a cab that had "FRESH" for a license plate number and dice around the mirror. I thought it was quite a rare sight, but then thought, Now forget it, and then I exclaimed to the driver, "Yo, Homes, to Bel-Air." I finally made it to the house around seven or eight O`clock, where I yelled to the taxi driver, "Yo, Homes, smell ya later." Lastly, I looked at my kingdom, and I realized that I was finally here to sit on my metaphorical throne as "Prince" of Bel-Air. Now, enough about me, how about you?