My Interview Songtext
von Rittz

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!)