Yeah, he’s the undisputed champ of summertime jams. Yeah, he’s the one with the freakiest video of the year. But don’t think for a sec that the leader of the Midwest rap movement doesn’t have his mind right. Check out a side of Nelly you don’t know anything about.

You might not expect to find the rap megastar known for penning the line, “I think my butt’s getting big!” engrossed in a marathon, late-night conversation about Iraq, voting and education. Here’s Nelly, though, at three in the morning at Los Angeles’ Record Plant studios, where, for the past four hours, he’s been thoughtfully assessing the world’s ills.

“Terrorism affects everybody,” he says, leaning forward in a swivel chair. Dressed in blue jeans, a white T-shirt and white Air Force 1 sneakers, he seems very ordinary, despite the familiar assortment of lightning-bright diamond jewelry adorning his neck, wrists and ears. His assistant and childhood friend Grip nods in agreement, along with sound engineers Carl and Mike. “Regardless of why it’s being done or who’s doing it, terrorism affects everybody. You may think you have nothing to do with what’s going on in the world, but shit, even if you going to get gas right now, shit is fuckin’ three dollars.”

Tonight’s discussion began as an early listening session of Nelly’s latest work: two separate albums, collectively known as Sweatsuit, with two lead singles (Sweat’s “Flap Your Wings” and Suit’s “My Place,” featuring Jaheim), two opposing styles (Sweat is full of up-tempo party anthems; Suit is a trove of laid-back melodies) and the same release date—a historical first for hip-hop. The albums feature a motley collection of artists and producers, with contributions from Christina Aguilera, Mobb Deep, Snoop Dogg, T.I., Fat Joe, Remy Ma and (get this!) country singer Tim McGraw, as well as production from Jazze Pha, Jayson “Koko” Bridges and The Neptunes, who created the scorching, percussion-heavy track for “Flap Your Wings.”

Yet, the more Nelly tries to explain the records’ themes—which range from love to fatherhood to social awareness—the more the discussion veers into the territory of global issues. Such serious talk is certainly at odds with the flashy, carefree public image the world-famous St. Louisian cultivates—but it reflects his 29 years on the planet.

“The 2004 era is becoming more of a grown-up type of era, you know,” he explains, referring to the mellow pace of the Suit album—“with the emergence of all the button-downs and things. Everybody wants to be older. Everybody wants to be grown and sexy. And it’s time for that. It’s time for people to grow up because there’s so much serious shit going on right now. It’s time for everybody that’s of age to be trying to make a difference.”

Having sold close to 15 million records over the past four years, Nelly has the resources to make a difference. Choosing causes close to home, he’s established two nonprofit organizations, 4 Sho 4 Kids, a community youth outreach program in St. Louis; and Jes Us 4 Jackie, a fund through which Nelly is trying to find a bone marrow donor for his sister Jacqueline, who was diagnosed with leukemia in 2001. Yet maturation is a complicated process, and good deeds aren’t always easy to do. Nelly discovered these truths last April when plans to hold a bone marrow drive at Atlanta’s Spelman College were dashed after Spelman’s Feminist Majority Leadership Alliance announced they would stage a protest over the use of misogynistic images in Nelly’s video for “E.I. (The Tipdrill Remix).” The video, currently airing on BET’s Uncut, an after-midnight hour of uncensored programming, features topless girls grinding on one other and Nelly swiping a credit card through a woman’s behind. After spotting protest signs posted around campus during a preliminary visit to the college, Nelly’s foundation canceled the drive.

“It felt personal to me,” Nelly says, annoyed. “I mean, you’re talking about a school where I know for a fact there are females on that campus who work in strip clubs and go to the school. I know for a fact that this school is located no farther than 10 blocks from a strip club. I know that you had a performer perform at your school who also has a video on this same channel that you’re trying to throw at me... Don’t get me wrong, the reason they threw out, I’m with. I’m with the upliftment of every aspect of our culture and our people. But your energy is misplaced right now. I think they’re doing this for publicity. We’re talking about the oldest profession on Earth. Women have been exotic-dancing forever and they’re gonna continue.”

Moya Bailey, a senior and president of the FMLA, denies any allegations of a publicity stunt. She contends that it was in fact the foundation that went to the press with the inaccurate story that Spelman cancelled the drive.

“We thought it was going to be a really small protest,” says the 21-year old comparative women’s studies major. “Like maybe five or 10 of us with some signs. We had even planned to register to donate bone marrow, and maybe have a sign up that said something like, ‘Think about the images Nelly presents us.’ But I think he and his people had this idea that there would be masses of us chanting, ‘Nelly, go home!’ Never. It most likely would’ve been just a handful of students participating. We had a lot of opposition on campus. A lot of girls felt like this wasn’t the right time to speak out. A lot of girls wanted to see Nelly and felt this wasn’t an issue at all. So it wasn’t all of Spelman, and it wasn’t a personal attack on him at all.

“This issue is so much bigger than Nelly,” says Bailey. “It’s a critique of the entire industry. Him being an artist and an adult himself, I still think we can critique his behavior and ask him to change it... He’s the one that we see in the video.”

As for the other artist with a video on Uncut who performed at Spelman: Ludacris, whose video “P-Poppin’” gets regular play on Uncut, recently visited the college, according to Bailey. “Had I known in time that he was going to be on campus, I probably would’ve done something then too,” she says, adding that the FMLA is working to get BET’s parent company Viacom to take Uncut off the air altogether.

Monday is “Rock ’N Bowl” night at Pinz Bowling Center, a hip celebrity magnet in the LA suburb of Studio City. League play has just ended and only a handful of lanes are occupied. Top-40 tunes waft through the rafters as Nelly walks in briskly, his publicist, road manager and security guard in tow. He cheerfully greets the attendant at the counter and draws little attention to himself as he heads for lane 16.

“St. Louis is bowler city,” he says, donning a pair of personalized black and silver bowling shoes. “So you know it’s on!”

Ever the competitor, Nelly lightheartedly promises certain victory over all, and on his first shot, crushes all 10 pins. “That’s what I’m talking about!” he cries, taking his seat amid a flurry of high-fives. As if on cue, “Hot In Herre,” the smash hit from 2002’s six-million-selling Nellyville, comes on over the loudspeakers. Nelly grins and shakes his head. Even he’s a little tired of the song, he admits. But he quickly remarks, “I’m happy to even have a song that I’m tired of.”

Over the next three games, Nelly is relaxed and pleasant, savoring this rare moment of recreation. “Back in the day, this was a cheap date,” he reminisces between sets. “I used to love for a girl to say she wanted to go bowling. I’d be like, ‘Bet!’ Play a couple of games, eat, and we’d be good.”

Nowadays, Nelly can certainly afford a more lavish evening, especially when it’s time to take a particular R&B diva out for a night on the town. “Naw, we’re just friends,” he replies firmly, when asked to confirm rumors that he and singer Ashanti are romantically linked. “I mean, we more or less just enjoy each other’s company. That’s it.” But minutes later, when asked if he would ever try to hide a celebrity relationship, Nelly is more revealing. “If you’re asking me if we’ve been out on a date, yeah, we’ve been out on a date. Like I said, we enjoy each other’s company, but it’s not like that. I mean, we’re friends and friends go out on dates.”

Several strikes, plenty spares and one blunderous gutterball later, Nelly has won two of the three games bowled. As he exits the alley, several eager teens approach and ask for photos and autographs. He patiently obliges his young fans before heading out to a gleaming black 2004 Rolls-Royce Phantom with “Derrty” vanity plates. He’s good with kids, and while he appreciates the rewards of his job he’s troubled that his rigorous schedule keeps him away from his daughter  Chanel, 10, and son Tre (Cornell III), five.

“I love them to death and I miss them very much,” Nelly sighs wistfully, staring out a tinted window as the Rolls glides down Ventura Boulevard. “I know they miss their daddy, especially my daughter. I used to keep her with me all the time, back before I had a deal. She’d ride with daddy wherever. She’d be in the car seat, and we’d be mobbing. When she was five, I got a deal. Then all of a sudden, Daddy’s not there. My son was probably about a year old when I got the deal, so he probably doesn’t know too much about me being there all the time. He basically just heard my voice over the phone for the first couple of years, and saw me when I was in and out of town. My daughter understands, but it’s still hard for her. She still cries when I have to take her back home and I have to leave to go out of town.”