Hand of the Prophet

Now this is the 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 where I spent most of my days Chilling out, maxing, relaxing all cool And all shooting some b-ball outside of the school When a couple of guys, they were up to no good Started making trouble in my neighbourhood I got in one little fight and my mom got scared And said "You're moving with your auntie and uncle in Bel-air"

I whistled for a cab and when it came near the License plate said "fresh" and had a dice in the mirror If anything I could say that this cab was rare But I thought nah, forget it, yo homes to Bel-air!

<span style="color:rgb(71,71,71);font-family:'TimesNewRoman',Times,serif;font-size:15px;line-height:23px;">I pulled up to a house about seven or eight <span style="color:rgb(71,71,71);font-family:'TimesNewRoman',Times,serif;font-size:15px;line-height:23px;">And I yelled to the cabby "Yo, homes smell you later!" <span style="color:rgb(71,71,71);font-family:'TimesNewRoman',Times,serif;font-size:15px;line-height:23px;">Looked at my kingdom I was finally there <span style="color:rgb(71,71,71);font-family:'TimesNewRoman',Times,serif;font-size:15px;line-height:23px;">To sit on my throne as the prince of Bel-air