This is a song about "The prince"

And if they did, they didn't care

Og like the prince of bel air,

Alcohol and booty calls

The pain, the loss, the grief, the cross.

The feds introduced the drugs, all the acid, the dope and smack,

For everything i lost tell em i want it all back

Got all the black bitches mad cause my main bitch vanilla

So call the coroner or the mortician for the the

Put the grants in the safe, 'cause we spending the jacksons, the

Hold my pistoland wrap your arms around a nigga

And i done seen some old beefs make a bunch of news

And the thirst, just the worst, it's the curse of the juice!

She say the "royal penis is clean", i'm prince akeem and she is my queen

I don't want to grow up, i know that shit for a fact, nigga eighteen

Buyin' the best of fresh prince for the bedroom

Seen blood, sweat and tears like a locker room