*Author’s Note, if you are unfamiliar with the awesome crunkness of the rap artist Tyga please watch his video Rack City. If you have already, watch it again, enjoy the booties and then enjoy this leaked interview between him and Pitchfork.
Pitchfork: Thank you Tyga for coming, we are glad you are taking the time as Pitchfork is trying to grow our urban audience.
Tyga: Wait, what is this bullshit?! I thought you mutha fuckaz was a barbecue joint; you ain’t hooking me up with some ribs & sponsorship? I got to talk to my label about this…this is some bullshit…y’all at least could have brought me some nachos.
Pitchfork: Um…no we don’t have nachos and I apologize if there was confusion. We are an indie rock online magazine trying to embrace all types of music now…that said Tyga, I must say listening to ‘Rack City’ I could hear a tight minimalism that reminded me of an Urban Britt Daniels; we’re you under the influence of Spoon? Are you a huge as fan as I am of GaGaGaGa? Am I right?
Tyga: Listen you alien looking tight ass jeans wearing mother fucker. Are you stupid?! Why the fuck would I need to be shooting up and making baby noises to make a song about titties. You got thick ass glasses on like you smart but you seem stupider than a mother fucker. I got to text my agent about this bullshit. You got lap dance time, then I’m bouncing.
Pitchfork: um, I appologize…lap dance time…oh I see..So let’s cut to the chase. What is Rack City?
Tyga: Where the titties be bouncing, ten’s and twenties on your titties bitch. Mother fucker, you even listen to my shit.
Pitchfork: Of course Tyga. A line I found very poignant and a little punk rock was ‘I got your grandma on my dick.’ Now, I must say how I read that line was that you were challenging ageism. Do you find older women sexy and believe they should be thought of as having sexual vitality. That beauty has no age.
Tyga: Nah, I don’t like saggy titties, but I am such a balla I got grandma’s wanting to be on my dick. It’s how shit be.
Pitchfork: a baller, yes, I see…but who really are the ballers? Who has the power? You know what I mean…times are tough and even the elderly have to do somethings for cash. Very proactive Tyga, very Lou Reed in the Nico years…You mention the line ‘throwing hundreds’. Are you commenting on the wastefulness of the 1%?
Tyga: Wait, are you talking about cutting the product by only 1%, damn yo, you’d be broke if you did that shit. Hell yeah, that is wasteful. You can’t move good shit that way.
Pitchfork: Um…yeah, I totally agree. We are finding common ground. Let’s find some more. So I am indie rock guy; we are trying to bring the cultures together. Right now, my favorite band is Grizzly Bear, now if I could get a little self-indulgent I think you could use them for a chorus or even a little collab. They can do a little remix on Rack City…it would be epic. Check this song out…here I have them on my I-Phone…
Tyga: …They sound like ballless dick suckers.
Pitchfork: Tyga, with all due respect do you not hear the melodies of grace coming out of these boys mouths.
Tyga: I hear them humming while sucking on dicks.
Pitchfork:…well, we all have different tastes.
Tyga: Man you skinny, them jeans look tight. You on the pipe yo.
Pitchfork: I smoke some herb now and then Tyga.
Tyga: Word. I’d roll a blunt but I’m already hungrier than a mother fucker. So on the real…am I really not getting a Barbecue sponsorship; y’all seriously aren’t playing, you really having nothing to do with any kind of food joints.
Pitchfork: Um, sorry Tyga, but we do reach millions of eager music loving readers.
Tyga: I don’t give a fuck; I just want a good ass sandwich right now. Shit, my manager tricked my ass. Fucking shame, I really wanted to start Tyga hot sauce. It would be huge in the hood, I got to get on that Shark Tank show or something…
Pitchfork: Once again I am sorry Tyga we are not a barbecue chain.
Tyga: It’s a’ight. I saw an Arby’s down the street. I’m gonna bounce; get me a chicken salad sandwich.
Pitchfork: Um…alright, ugh…any last words for Pitchfork.
Tyga: Yeah, go suck Grizzly Bear’s balls. I’m out. Rack City Bitch, Rack Rack City Bitch…