N. perrin words BY eric BEVERLY LIA PHOTOS BY JU
D
riving through Alabama on a sluggish Sunday in early April is a lonely experience. The entire state is literally tucked in by the time the street lights come on and the only thing that stands out amidst the never-ending black backdrop is the congregation of stars highlighting the Alabama sky. Speeding east on I10, racing towards Atlanta, it becomes evident that out here, the diamonds in the sky are the resident rock-stars; and they party like such every night until the sun comes up. In fact, stars are so permeated throughout Alabama that the state’s license plates are adorned with a simple yet poetic phrase, “Stars fell on Alabama.” But the logo is a lie. In Alabama, the stars have always been restricted to the sky, millions of miles away from reality. For an eternity, it seemed impossible for the state the stars fell on to actually produce one of its own. Of course it would take a lot more than one catchy tune about rims and Cadillacs to change all that, right? Apparently not. By January 2007, Rich Boy had successfully bombarded the Billboard charts and witnessed his single “Throw Some D’s” ascend higher than anyone would have ever imagined. Multiple remixes of the infectious hit have included everyone from Outkast to Jim Jones to Kanye West. By now, you’ve probably received the text message about the boy who received all F’s on his report card and disgustedly told his teacher to “Throw some D’s on that bitch!” A hot single like Rich Boy’s is the envy of all artists, and has even eluded many of the best, most heralded rappers of all time. But until recently, Rich Boy’s star-crossed path was one of few triumphs. In 2003, when a dread-headed Lil’ Rich first appeared in OZONE, he had just dropped out of Tuskegee University and was more of an aspiring producer than rapper. His image wasn’t fit for the mainstream; even worse, he was from Alabama, and ‘Bama’s didn’t rap — at least that’s what most of the critics thought. Alabama was more known for the civil rights movement than the rap movement and industry execs paid no attention to the multi-talented, driven emcee. But according to Rich, his underdog status is part of the reason he thrived. After signing to super-producer Polow Da Don’s Zone 4 Inc. Records, Rich Boy’s career seemed to be headed in the right direction; he had a growing industry buzz, a strong label backing and increasing spins on local radio. However, his career almost ended before it truly began. While at home in Alabama, Rich was the victim of his own looming success and was forced to kill a man out of self defense, resulting in an attempted murder charge. After a lengthy trial, Rich was given a deal that allowed him to serve just 36 months probation with no prison time. Rich Boy calls it a miracle and today, as Alabama’s brightest star, Lil’ Rich is on top - right where he always knew he would be. You were first in OZONE back in 2004 as a Patiently Waiting artist, then you were featured few times throughout the last couple of years, and now you’re on the cover. Did you ever doubt that you’d be on top? Man, I never doubted it. What’s so crazy is that OZONE was the first magazine to ever get at me. Julia came down herself to take the pictures. We did the shoot on the railroad tracks, and we did the interview at Red Lobster. I’ll never forget that. It was crazy. But I most definitely knew at some point in time something was gonna pop. Some people believe they’re gonna make it
and then some people really believe they’re gonna make it. I really believed, you feel me? Yeah, but was there any point during your trial that you were afraid you might not make it? Yeah, there was a time. One day I just woke up like, “Man I’m fucked up. I ain’t gonna be able to get out this situation. It’s impossible. Not in Alabama.” I was just fucked up. I knew it wasn’t gonna happen for me, and I was just depressed. I was real depressed; it got to the point where I just felt like, really, it was over and I pretty much just gave up on the situation. So what moment turned it around for you? It was like five minutes before I walked in the courtroom, they had the jury and everything. I thought it was just gonna go down and I was gonna be fucked up, but they came to me at the last minute, like, “Okay, we’re gonna offer you one more deal.” With the first [plea]I had to serve time, period. So at the last minute they said, “We’re gonna sentence you to ten years, but you can execute it with three years probation.” Man, it was just a miracle. That had to be a triumphant moment, probably even more so than having your album debut at number two. But the success in the game this year has to feel almost as good. Yeah! [laughs] Yeah, it feels good. The number two debut was a big deal, especially coming from where I’m coming from. It’s crazy, I can’t even explain how it feels. This type of situation is the first of its kind, especially from my state. A lot of critics didn’t respect you, and many still don’t respect you. How do feel about that? Well, you know, that’s just how the game is. I’m the underdog, but at the same time I feel like that’s what gives me the upper hand because I can catch ‘em from the blind spot. If you ain’t expecting somebody to make no moves you can’t prepare for it and you can’t fight against it no kinda way, so I caught ‘em off guard with the album. They most definitely thought I was just gon’ be throwin’ some D’s on it throughout the whole album. You did a little over 100,000 your first week, and I know you have platinum aspirations. Are you satisfied with your album sales thus far? On the record I’m satisfied, but I’m just the type that’s never satisfied, to tell you the truth. That’s just the way I am, but I’m happy with it. I feel like it’s a great accomplishment. Definitely, but three years ago a CD as solid as yours might have sold a lot more copies. In today’s market, album sales have been really stagnant. Do you ever see the game bouncing back? I feel like people just have to start touching on real topics instead on just following what they hear already and I feel that’ll bring the game back to something refreshing. We have to keep the people refreshed. The game is so saturated right now that a lot of people just gon’ have to quit rapping for it to really recover. The game is saturated to the point where it’s rappers everywhere you go. You can walk into any restaurant or any store and somebody in there raps; that’s why people don’t take albums seriously and they don’t purchase them anymore. One thing that stands out is the concepts in your music. Yeah, I felt like my concepts are my strength. The difference between me and the average artist is that the average artist is tryna hit a lick; they’re tryna get rich. They do it just to get rich so it ain’t no passion behind it and it ain’t no emotion behind it. They just think, “Okay, this tight. People gon’ love this, so I’m gonna do it this way.” I never went in the studio questioning if people were gonna like what I was doing, I went in there and just did what I felt. It was all off emotions. There would be days in the studio when I had my shirt off, almost finna cry recording a song like “Ghetto Rich,” or “Let’s Get This Paper,” and then it’d be days when I’d go write a song right after a funeral, like “Madness.” OZONE MAG // 61