"Eight a.m.," I respond groggily from my New York apartment.

"Oh my gosh! Shit. Sorry," she softly snickers.

You gotta love honesty, and with Lady Sovereign, what you see is what you get.

Almost a year has passed since I last spoke with the self-crowned "biggest midget in the game" about her first stateside release, Vertically Challenged, a holdover EP until her proper Def Jam debut. A flurry of Internet buzz and critical attention has followed and fanned anticipation for the much-delayed Public Warning, which finally hits stores October 17. Notice of the album being pushed back another week results in understandable frustration from Sov mid-conversation.

"I just wanna know what's really real," she says with a groan. "I wanna know what's goin' on. I wanna know how many people are gonna pick it up and what the response is gonna be from the public rather than just media, media, media. ÔCause that's all I'm hearin' unless I go on MySpace."

Sovereign had an album's worth of material in the can prior to Vertically Challenged, but her infamous meeting with Jay-Z Ð and subsequent Def Jam signing Ð presented new recording opportunities with American producers. And the rumors have since flown with lofty speculation.

"Honestly, yeah," Sov begins, "I only recorded two tracks in the States, and that was with a guy called Dr. Luke," whose production/songwriting credits include tracks for Kelly Clarkson, Paris Hilton, and Pink Ð far from the expected rap sheet. The results: first single "Love Me or Hate Me," a straightforward, unapologetic intro to what Sov's about, and the personally nostalgic "Those Were the Days."

"I'm chattin' about my childhood," the 20-year-old reveals. "People can listen to it and stop asking about Chalkhill Estate, ÔWhere'd ya grow up, Sov? Tell us about this, tell us about that.' Just bloody listen to this song."

A cross between Ice Cube classic "It Was a Good Day" and Eve's "Let Me Blow Ya Mind," "Those Were the Days" is a decidedly U.S. hip-hop track unlike the rest of Sov's material, and one of her favorites.

"I hadn't worked with a U.S. producer before," she admits. "So the way them tracks come out is just me experimenting, Ôcause I obviously don't do straight-up hip-hop. The music I normally make is my music, ya know? People might call it experimenting but that's my music, and for me to do straight-up hip-hop was more experimenting, as weird as that sounds."

Anyone who's been keeping up with Sov will find "Those Were the Days" to be one of Public Warning's few surprises, particularly in the U.K. Original collaborator, British producer Medasyn, handles most of the tracks, and Dr. Luke's are two of only three songs I hadn't heard on her website, EP, or in concert earlier this year.

"Things took long and things leak and things get released," she defends. "[People] are still gonna get something different on the album Ôcause it's the done, finished version. I don't want anyone to be disappointed and be like, ÔOh I've heard this before,' because obviously you're gonna pick up anyone's album and you're gonna hear [songs] before," adding with a laugh, "I think it's a sick album, so personally I'll have it in my collection."

Fun, hectic, and playful, the only thing serious about Lady Sovereign is her talent. Public Warning showcases her ability to break stylistic boundaries, twist words, switch flows mid-verse, and make sense of the nonsensical with her anything-goes rhymes. The title track alone mixes a warbling bass line, video game blips, and ska guitar with a hyper, techno beat-driven, shout-along chorus that wouldn't be out of place on a Limp Bizkit record.

"My audience is kind of mad, but I kind of understand that Ôcause my album's not exactly the most consistent thing you're gonna hear. It's all over the place," she confesses. "I get so many people that say, ÔI don't normally listen to this kind of music, but I like what you're doing.' It's music for everyone. If you don't like one joint, you're gonna listen to another one."

Lady Sovereign begins an extensive U.S. tour in late October, backed by a live drummer, a bassist, DJ Frampster, and a painter named Chadwick.

"He has this canvas, and when he strokes the brush he does it in time with the beat. It's just really random and crazy," she explains. Imagine that.

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