I admit it. I discriminated against Rittz. I didn’t discriminate against him because he was a white rapper. As long as you can rhyme, I don’t care. The reason I almost never gave the rapid-fire Slumerican a listen, was because I hated his name. Seriously, Rittz…cracker…white rapper? I hated it. Solely based on his name, I pre-determined his corniness, and never gave him a chance. To compound my folly, I also voiced my opinion, like the loudmouth I am, to my Twitter feed.
After I got a few jokes in, another user caught wind of the slander, and cut my online stand-up set short. It wasn’t Rittz himself. He was too busy perfecting his craft and rapping circles around everybody while I refused to listen. It wasn’t his homie Yelawolf, or even an obsessive fan. The reason I’m now a Rittz fan is because of Rittz’s mom. Well, at least an unbelievably nice lady who claimed to be his mom.
While I was tweeting away, she replied to told me how great her son was, and that I should give him a chance. She wasn’t angry, but proud. She responded earnestly about Rittz’s talent and piqued my interest with his Yelawolf affiliation. I was so ashamed of my blatant *ssholery, that I was shamed into taking a listen. I owed her that much.
When I finally heard his music, I was blown away. Rittz’s acrobatic cadences and precise delivery crumbled my preconceived notions like his flaky namesake, and I have been a big fan and supporter ever since.
In his video for his new single “White Rapper,” the Strange Music spitter goes deep into his personal history, detailing others who discounted him for similarly stupid reasons, the harsh words from family and friends, and never ending grind that led him on his circuitous route toward success. Don’t make the same mistake as me. Forget what he calls himself, just press play and watch him work.