And yet, exaggerations aside, violent undercurrents run through Suge's life. He does not try to explain the situation but does have an all-purpose solution, one not uncommon to black inner-city males: assert and define yourself as a man. "Lots of times, I say, 'There are a lot of males, but a male is not a man.' You get a lot of guys running around acting tough, and that's not part of being a man. Whatever it is, a man is going to deal with it. 'Cause whatever happens, if God makes you a man, it's a gift. A lot of guys are not men. Even if they have money or success, they are just males."

When Suge doesn't like or respect someone, like Puff Daddy or Jerry Heller, Eazy-E's manager and his partner in Ruthless Records, he does not view them as men. When Suge was trying to get Dre out of his contract with Ruthless, he apparently felt justified in using any tactics. In an interview in the book "Moguls and Madmen," by Jory Farr, Heller is quoted as saying that one of Suge's men put a finger up to his temple and said, "I could have blown you away right now."

But he didn't, and Suge will not comment on the matter. He just played the bluff hard and ended up winning. "You can walk around and kiss everyone's behind and then you worry," says Suge, pulling into the driveway of One-Stop, his car garage. "Or you be a man and you stand up. You make sure your people are successful and people gonna talk about you. There's only one person on this earth who was perfect and that was Jesus Christ, and they killed him. If they can crucify a person who's perfect, who's God's son, how is anybody else safe? Just be aman and then you can deal with everything."

He turns off the ignition and gets out of the car. Three of his buddies are hanging outside the garage, talking to the mechanics. They greet Suge warmly, but they keep some distance -- this is his show. There are cars parked everywhere -- a maroon Mercedes, a forest green Jaguar, a turquoise-and-white 50's Bel Air. The cars sparkle, they shine, they seem to be covered in glitter.

Suge retreats to the corner of the room to make a phone call. He is almost certainly making last minute arrangements for the release of Tupac Shakur, the newest Death Row recording artist, from a New York State prison, where he has been serving time for the sexual assault of a 21-year-old woman at Manhattan's Parker Meridien Hotel in November 1993. Awaiting appeal, Shakur was legally permitted to be freed, but he was unable to make bail. It's all in the family: Shakur and Snoop Doggy Dogg are longtime friends, and Suge has known Shakur for years. Tonight, Suge and his lawyer, David Kenner, are planning to fly to upstate New York in a private plane, put up $1.4 million in bail money and bring Shakur straight back to the Can-Am studio, where he will record a new album. Shakur's last album reached No. 1 immediately, even though he had already been convicted.

"Tupac's good people," Suge says, getting off the phone. "And he got a bad deal." Suge walks proudly among his cars and strolls over to a 1963 red Impala with the Death Row logo airbrushed on its trunk. He pops the hood and looks at the engine, which gleams, and asks the mechanic (one of two who work for him full time) to show him what she's got. The car bounces. It jumps. It tilts and drives on three tires. Suge is delighted. "This car is my favorite," he says. "It hops and that's illegal. It goes up and down and that's illegal. It drives on three wheels and that's illegal." Suge smiles. "People say I'm illegal, so this car is my favorite." He watches the car bounce. "We go together."

It's 5 P.M. on a Tuesday in early November and, as usual, there's big drama at the Death Row offices on Wilshire Boulevard in Westwood Village. Everybody's supposed to meet here to go to a special Soul Train Awards ceremony and Tha Dogg Pound -- that is, Dat Nigga Daz and Kurupt -- are somewhere on the road. Tha Dogg Pound, formerly Snoop Doggy Dogg's backup rappers but now on their own, are supposed to be at a tuxedo rental shop -- the Awards are black tie -- but they're nowhere to be found. "I think Daz is on the radio," says Norris Anderson, Suge's assistant to Roy Tesfay, Suge's other assistant. He's right: "Hi, this is Dat Nigga Daz," comes the voice over the airwaves. "I'm going to put some soul in your train."