I can’t find Kokane.  Knocking on the door of his room at the Best Western on Franklin in Hollywood once more than I’m comfortable with, I resign myself to the lobby with not just a little relief. 

After all, Jerry Long, aka “Kokane,” aka “Mr. Kane,” is a West Coast OG. Unlike, say, Snoop Dogg, whose early bite has been defanged by things like E!’s “Snoop Dogg’s Father Hood,” Kokane’s still something of a mystery.  Early association with N.W.A. Close friend and colleague of Eazy-E. Heavy involvement in the porn industry.  Internet research leaves a lot to the imagination. And his new album, “Gimme All Mine,” a shuffle of odes to both his spiritual awakening and his baser proclivities, leaves a lot to the imagination. 

He appears downstairs shortly after I, pacing while on the phone, running behind on interviews.  But if he’s feeling rushed, it doesn’t show. He shakes my hand and stares intently at me, serene as still water, a gentle giant.  He speaks, and occasionally gets lost, in parables, but like a pastor who’s traveled far beyond doubt, he’s confidently convicted. The conversation usually circles back to his faith, his blessings, what he’s learned from God.  He’s humble and likable, even when complimenting himself: “Eazy recognized God blessed me with a gift”; “I’m a West Coast pioneer, one of the chief architects.”   

Re-entering a game you’ve studied and played for 20 years must do that to you.  A part of the West Coast’s revolutionary rush of the hip-hop stage, Kokane signed to Jerry Heller and Eric “Eazy-E” Wright’s Ruthless Records label and released “Addictive Hip Hop Muzick” in 1991. 

“It [the beginning] was bananas. Out here you can create your own lane…Eazy-E created his own lane.  Dr. Dre created his own lane.  Learn how the older cats…created this prosperity.  There will never be another Eazy-E. Eazy showed that you can come from that suppressed environment, and you don’t have to be held by the guidelines of that system that’s purposely set up to fail…you can have freedom of speech, you can break outta that…It was rewarding- here’s a dude that had on a Compton hat, saggin’ in his little pants, with the Chuck Taylors on, but he knew how to break down points.  He knew structure. When you heard him talk, there was a certain eloquence.  It was chaotic too, at the same time; [but] Eazy allowed me to be me.” 

Clearly he’s comfortable in his skin.  In retracing his steps, he comes to 1995, the year Eazy-E died.  “We was at House of Blues, having a meeting, like, two weeks [before he passed], like, TWO WEEKS…he was fine.  He got to the meetin’ and started coughing. I was like, ‘Man, why you coughin’ like that?? What’s goin’ on witchu?’  You could see something was wrong…but he always kept it G; he didn’t want nobody to get worried about him.  And he looked at me and said, ‘You know what, Jerry?’  He always called me Kokane, but he ain’t never called me Jerry. And I’m like, oh shit, why he call me Jerry?  He was like, ‘Man, you gonna do some big things- you gonna be on a lot of records.’  And I wasn’t on hardly no records then!  And he said, ‘You know, I love ya.’”  Kokane’s eyes get bluer, watery, and he drops my gaze for the first time since we started talking.  Shivering, he says, “Oooeee even sometimes talking ‘bout it [I get] chills….and like a week later, he passed.  That put us in a deep, dark type of situation.” 

He started gathering spots on records, beginning to earn his tagline, “the most featured artist in the world.”  In 1999, he reconnected with Snoop Dogg, who was starting to work on his last No Limit record, 2000’s “Tha Last Meal.”  The two ended up collaborating on 20 songs, and just shy of half of those made the album. 

But the music industry wasn’t prepared for the internet, Snoop “had a situation” over at MCA, and Kokane found himself back on the block. “I had to go back to the streets, I had to hustle again, and I got in a little bit of trouble and I had to go to jail.  After I got out of jail, I moved the family [he and his wife have been together 20 years, and have eight children] up to Seattle.” 

He only briefly mentions his gangbanging, drug using, adult filmmaking past, and I don’t press.  Instead, I ask about the contradictions on the album, and how he reconciles his nature and his faith. “God puts you in boot camp for life just for you to be trained to be a Navy Seal for whatever profession you’re in…your misery is your ministry...when I say, ‘gimme all mine back,’ [I mean] gimme all that you took from me, Devil, all I gave away…I got my stuff I’m still attached to, because I am a work-in-progress- aren’t we all?” 

His voice takes on a different timbre, and I’m suddenly a congregant.  He leans forward, preaching about being in church, and then being in a strip club, but I’m not confused; I see the light. “If you believe in something, and you really believe in it, do you know you can move mountains? Do you know you can hypnotize people and actually move mountains?” 

Can this thug get to heaven? Oh, amen.

"Gimme All Mine" is in stores June 1, 2010.  Find Kokane online on Twitter @kokaneofficial or MySpace www.myspace.com/kokane360.