On Ludacris's fourth CD, "Red Light District," the Atlanta rapper leaves the 24/7 party behind for more experimental, emotional terrain. He still tangles with "manicured and pedicured" ladies, and takes a jab at Bill O'Reilly (the Fox host's tirades once cost Ludacris a Pepsi endorsement), but they're remnants of his past.

LORRAINE ALI: Let's start from the beginning. On "Number One Spot" I love how you rap over that groovy Austin Powers melody.

LUDACRIS: Wait, what about the intro? Aren't you supposed to go through each and every track? You just skipped one.

We can jump around. I'm impressed that just seconds into your CD you say your sales are bigger than Elvis's. You're a master boaster.

Thank you. That's nice to hear.

On "Number One Spot," I love how you manage to rhyme "Nevada" and "Impala": "Ludacris is hotter than Nevada/I'm ready to break the steering wheel on your Impala." But I was expecting more drama on the O'Reilly front.

I talked about him on the last album, and I'm over it. As soon as [he was sued for sexual harassment] I was flooded with calls from people who asked me what I'd have to say. I let them know I was aware, but I didn't want to drill a damn hole with it.

"Get Back" is my least favorite song. It's too thuggish and tough: "I came, I saw, I hit 'em right dead in the jaw." A couple other tracks also seem too muscle-headed.

But by putting in the songs you call "tough" I'm being versatile. The rest of the album is me experimenting, so those songs balance things out. It's important for a certain part of my audience to hear the same Ludacris.

Yeah, but there's so many other rappers doing the thug thing.

OK, I understand.

You hate me now, don't you?

No, no, I hear what you're sayin'. I don't agree, but I hear you.

"Child of the Night" has that old R&B vibe. Some parts are corny, some are touching. Was that the intention?

Well, if you take away the corny part, yes. It's supposed to be touching the whole way through. It's all about someone's conscience and maturity catching up with them. I coupled it with the old Tina Marie sample. Everyone loves that--well, almost everyone. [Laughs]

So let's get to a song I love: "The Potion." It's perfect. The beats are tribal. The melody is hypnotic. The wordplay is untouchable.

Wow. It's good to know, 'cause I really went out on this one. I even sang--"Jump down, turn around, pick a bale of cotton." I've never done that.

That was you? I thought it was an old field recording. By the way, I appreciate that there are very few skits here.

There's only one.

I don't have much to say about it.

Maybe it's too short to complain about.

On "Large Amounts" you rap over a song from the musical "Oliver," and it actually works. But I do have one criticism. You talk about how you're going to teach your baby daughter to avoid the guys who rap about gold diggers and hos. But you rap about the same thing.

I said that "I have to teach her about the game that most of us will spit." I included myself. It takes one to know one.

You're still pretty raw about women on a couple of tracks here.

I'm in a transitional stage. I made a real effort to tone things down.

"Hopeless" makes me tear up: "I'm a black man but I feel so blue, so I smoke green and purple until my dreams come true. When my life seems hopeless makes a n----r lose focus, empty beer bottle and roaches." It's so damn sad. You ask yourself if you're exploiting a painful human condition to make a song.

It's a little bit of a contradiction--I feel bad about it but I rap about it. I'm human, and people need to know that.

OK, I think we're done.

Is there an overall album rating?

I hate the rating thing. I don't know--an 8?

So like a B? Or a high B?

Yeah, but it may change the more I listen.

The "tough" songs you hate? They'll grow on you. You'll be humming " 'tis the season for bleeding" by the end of the week.