I was broke and hungry, failing history class. I only use Ben Franklins to wipe my ass, so shut the fuck up, and sit your ass down, Imma tell you how I became the richest n word in town. In West Philadelphia, that was ME on the playground selling that crack and that pcp, straight pimpin'. I'm all hustle and flow, when some punk ass bitch, didn't pay my hoe. So I shot him in the knees and I shot him in his face, to cap it off I shot him in another place (his nuts) Mom said I was going to the electric chair, said "You best step on it n word and get your ass to Bel-Air!" Bitch, I'm on the fucking police spotter, can't go fish out of water, this ain't welcome back cotter, yo fuck uncle Phil, and his high-tax bracket, I ain't got a sports jacket, and Carlton's a F****t. Then she said, I'd have 17 cars, a solid gold cock ring, tons of cigars. I'd own all the clouds and decide when it rains, shit diamonds in a bath full of fine champagne. Word? So i carjacked a taxi, killed the mother fucker, hid his corpse in the backseat. By Utah, I couldn't stand the stink of the bitch so I said "Yo smell ya later" as he rolled in the ditch. It was 7 or 8, when I stepped in the place, put the police man, right back in the chase. Checked out the crib, and it dawned to me there, I'd be gettin' mad pussy as the prince of Bel-Air.