My Interview

Just let me call to get this interview over with

I hate doing this shit

♪

(Hello?)

Hey, what up? This is, uh, Rittz, I was calling to do the interview with you today

(Oh, hey Rittz, let me just get my recorder ready and I'll be ready whenever you are)

Okay, cool, shit, I'm ready, let's do it

(So tell me, who is Rittz?)

That's a stupid question

Bitch, Rittz is me

A white boy from Gwinnett County, Georgia

Been doing for some years, never gave up

Now I get to live my dream

(And when did you start to rap?)

I think I started to rap back in '92

I used to rhyme to Snoop

With some dude that I rode the bus with

Who played the Geto Boys for me when I went to school and I was hooked

(So how'd your family act?)

About the fact of rap, they used to hate it, they say I was actin' black

"Pull your pants up boy," Mom and Dad would snap

I had the black lumberjack with the hat to match

(Did you make good grades?)

Hell no, I flunked

Seventh grade, eighth grade, ninth grade, enough

I got expelled from selling weed and when I came back

Everyday they would check my book bag for drugs

(Where did you get the name "Rittz" from?)

That's another dumb question

Are you a dumb bitch?

It's obvious that I got the name after the cracker

Because I'm white, please, next subject

(You got an attitude, honey?)

I apologize

Plus I'm a little drunk and I'm always tired

I don't answer these questions a thousand times

And people still don't know my name and, oh my God, it's like

Everybody's asking all this shit about me

Wondering where I came from

Questioning my surroundings

And the same motherfuckers that damned me

Bitter haters that used to down me

And I'm trying to answer their questions

But my memories just too cloudy for my interview

(What's your name? Rittz, bitch, where you from? GA)

Getting fucked up in my interview

(What's your name? Rittz, bitch, where you from? GA)

Pissed off in my interview

(What's your name? Rittz, bitch, where you from? GA)

Representing in my interview

(What's your name? Rittz, bitch, who you with? Strange!)

(Was it hard to come up in the Atlanta scene?)

Yeah, it kinda sucked

If you ain't make the type of shit they play inside the club

Then the strippers don't dance and the radio don't play you

And besides, they ain't show Northside no love

(You from Gwinnett County?)

Goddamn right

There's a ton of us to represent so hard

Don't let the word "suburb" throw you off

A lot of people moved here get their head blown off

(I heard you rap about drugs a lot)

You probably would, too, if you grew up through the shit I've seen

16 I was sniffing things, the shit changed when '96 Olympics came

(What you mean?)

Everybody and their mama came to GC

Lot of home invasions, armed robberies

We kept running from the GCPD

'Cause the crime rate kept increasing weekly

(So does that affect what you rhyme about?)

Fuck yes, so many nights been spending in my mama's house

Geeked up on white, scared that I'm ODing

Thinking I'ma die trying to ride it out

(Not to change the subject, what's up with your hair?)

Goddamn, why do people care?

Got grown men coming under me when it's tucked in like

"Please say you didn't cut it, is it there?"

And I swear, it's like

Everybody's asking all this shit about me

Wondering where I came from

Questioning my surroundings

And the same motherfuckers that damned me

Bitter haters that used to down me

And I'm trying to answer their questions

But my memories just too cloudy for my interview

(What's your name? Rittz, bitch, where you from? GA)

Getting fucked up in my interview

(What's your name? Rittz, bitch, where you from? GA)

Pissed off in my interview

(What's your name? Rittz, bitch, where you from? GA)

Representing in my interview

(What's your name? Rittz, bitch, who you with? Strange!)

(So Yelawolf discovered you, right?)

He said if he ever got the chance, he would put me on

And when he blew it in, I owe him everything

So if anybody, fuck with my dude again

(So is it still Slumerican?)

Of course it is

What up, Shawty Fatt? What up, Strug?

What up, Newport? What up, Will?

I'm about to kill shit

Can't nobody touch us, dog

(What do you say to those who say you rap too fast?)

Don't listen if you don't like the way that I rhyme

It cost you nothin', pay me no mind

Old slow boat, fuck a lemon and lime

(You gettin' money now, right?)

I came off tour with like twenty grand

I put a down payment on a new car

Paid my manager's off, now I got like six

'Til I go out of town again

(How's your girlfriend dealin' with your new success?)

When I'm gone on the road, all she does is cry

And accuses me of cheatin' and sleepin' with chicks

When I'm usually chillin' gettin' drunk and high

(Last question, do you think the world is ready for a fat, long-haired piece of shit like you?)

What? Fuck yeah, bitch, indeed I do

And I guess I gotta make you a believer too

It's like

Everybody's asking all this shit about me

Wondering where I came from

Questioning my surroundings

And the same motherfuckers that damned me

Bitter haters that used to down me

And I'm trying to answer their questions

But my memories just too cloudy for my interview

(What's your name? Rittz, bitch, where you from? GA)

Getting fucked up in my interview

(What's your name? Rittz, bitch, where you from? GA)

Pissed off in my interview

(What's your name? Rittz, bitch, where you from? GA)

Representing in my interview

(What's your name? Rittz, bitch, who you with? Strange!)

(P.S., don't you ever call me a bitch!

Simple ass motherfucker

Red-headed bastard, get the fuck outta here!

Make this your first and last interview with me, cracker!)