FROM THE DRIVER'S SIDE
GANGSTA-RAP MOGUL "SUGE" KNIGHT FINALLY BREAKS HIS SILENCE ON TUPAC SHAKUR'S UNSOLVED MURDER BY: CHRISTOPHER JOHN FARLEY

Love is not a word most people use when they talk about Marion ("Suge") Knight. They talk about money--Knight is the head of Death Row Records, a hip-hop record label that generated $100 million in revenue last year. They talk about violence--Knight, a 6-ft. 4-in., 315-lb. former pro-football player, is an intimidating figure to some--and Death Row, whose roster of artists includes Snoop Doggy Dogg, is a driving force in the controversial genre of gangsta rap. Knight was behind the wheel of the BMW in which Tupac Shakur, a rapper on his label, was riding when he was fatally shot on Sept. 7 in Las Vegas.

But love, not violence or money, was on Shakur's mind at the end, according to Knight. "We were in the hospital, and I was sittin' on the bed," he says, in one of his first interviews since Shakur's death 1 1/2 weeks ago, "and he called out to me and said he loved me."

In the wake of the still unsolved murder of Shakur, all eyes have been on Knight, 30. He is a major player in the world of pop music--Death Row is rap's most successful label--and he is a key figure in the life, and death, of Shakur, a young rapper villainized by millions and idolized by millions more.

Knight--his nickname, pronounced Shoog, is derived from "Sugar Bear"--is the son of a Compton, California, truck driver. He began building his music empire in 1989, and from the start he had an eye for raw talent. Knight is often compared to Motown founder Berry Gordy in the way in which he recruited a talented group of performers and carefully shaped their images and careers.

Kevin Powell, a Brooklyn-based music writer who is working on a book of essays that will deal, in part, with hip-hop and American culture, says Shakur, who grew up fatherless, was drawn to the charismatic Knight as a father figure. Knight, for his part, says the relationship was a bit more equal: "He was the little brother, and I was the big brother." The tie was cemented when Knight posted a $1.4 million bond last year, releasing Shakur from prison while he appealed his conviction on a sexual-assault charge.

Before Shakur signed with Knight, his records were relatively thoughtful; his first release for Death Row, All Eyez on Me, was filled with the label's typical violent posturing. But Kidada Jones, Shakur's fiance (and daughter of show-biz mogul Quincy Jones), says that before his death Shakur was changing his ways--going out less, staying in more, watching movies like Les Miserables on laser disc. "Instead of going to strip clubs, he'd be cooking," says Jones. Shakur planned to move away from music and into acting, Jones adds. She says his last recording, Makiaveli, completed before his death, is "a really deep album...he wasn't talking about money and ho's. It was about lessons he's learned."

Knight has no plans to change his product mix. "I don't want to give up gangsta rap, not at all," he says. "It is the real s__. It's not about us. It's about the community; it's about our people, and we can't turn our backs on them." He gets edgy when asked about who may have been behind Shakur's slaying. "I don't want to deal with who did this and do that," he says. "So I don't want to go there." He also dismisses the theory that the cause may have been an East Coast-West Coast feud in the rap world. "It's something that's trumpeted by the press...It's not true." Knight is said to have gang ties, but Las Vegas police say they have no evidence that the shooting was gang related.

Shakur's last music video, I Ain't Mad at Cha, which he co-directed with J. Kevin Swain, seems to have almost predicted his death. In the clip, Shakur is shot and killed and then ascends to heaven. In fact, much of Shakur's life, and death, was spelled out in his music. On one of his biggest hits, Dear Mama, Tupac rapped the following lines about his childhood. They tell much about the friends he made, and the price he paid:

They say I'm wrong and I'm heartless But all along I was looking for a father--he was gone I hung around with the thugs And even though they sold drugs They showed a young brother love

--With reporting by Patrick E. Cole, Sylvester Monroe and Jeffrey Ressner/Los Angeles