Three strikes, she’s in

IN ways both minor and profound, the British rapper Lady Sovereign is defined by contradictions

Although the MC (real name Louise Harman) has bestowed upon herself a hip-hop honorific bespeaking supreme rank and unassailable authority, she grew up poor in London’s Wembley housing projects to working-class punk-rocker parents.

And despite her porcelain complexion and U.K. pedigree, she forswears the Queen’s English in favor of a lilting Jamaican patois and a vocabulary of street slang and made-up words in song.

Most telling, Lady Sovereign -- who turns 20 on Monday -- has commanded stages from Brixton to Montreal, standing a mere 5 feet 1 while grandly proclaiming her unique worldview “big midget style.”

Seated in an upstairs booth at Hollywood’s CineSpace club this week at the tail end of a month-long tour of the U.S. and Canada, and dressed in an Adidas track suit that was several sizes too large, she appeared at least half a dozen years younger than she really is.

“I’ve had people think I’m 14,” she said exasperatedly. “At a couple of shows, I’ve come to do a sound check and they say, ‘Sorry, you’re not allowed.’ They think I’m just a kid.”

Make that a kid with a major league recording contract. In November, rap superstar-turned-label President Jay-Z signed Harman to Island Def Jam. Although Ms. Dynamite, a U.K. rapper of African descent, released an album on Interscope in 2003, and Sri Lankan MC M.I.A. currently has an album out on the Interscope-distributed XL label, Sovereign is the first British-born white woman rapper to land a deal with a major American label -- let alone hip-hop’s most venerable imprint, Def Jam.

“She’s a white female English rapper. That makes her different from every MC out there,” said Rob Stevenson, her Island Def Jam artists and repertoire executive. “Everyone’s interest is piqued.”

Although Sovereign has been favorably compared to Eminem for her ribald, autobiographical, take-no-prisoners rhyme style -- she jokes in her songs about drinking too much, getting kicked out of school and losing her virginity -- she resists being identified as the riot grrrl version of Slim Shady.

“I’m the best thing since sliced bread -- no, Eminem,” Harman raps on her song “Ch Ching.” “Feminem? Nah. Sovereign? Yeah.”

According to Marvin “Seven” Bedard, owner of Chocolate Industries, the Chicago-based independent label that released Sovereign’s “Vertically Challenged” EP last month, her ability to communicate specifics about her experience sets her apart from other rappers.

“She’s a direct product of where she’s from,” Bedard said. “She isn’t trying to project anything. She’s like, ‘This is who I am.’ It’s never a facade to be anything else.”

Already a fixture on Britain’s “grime” music scene -- a street-smart English sub-genre that draws influences from dancehall reggae, hip-hop, punk and drum-and-bass -- she has become a darling of bloggers and critics.

But Sovereign’s status as a Lady may be her most distinguishing characteristic. In an era when women have been marginalized as rappers, Harman’s Island Def Jam deal is hardly business as usual. Moreover, with Lil’ Kim sentenced to a year and a day in prison for perjury and the recent revelation that Foxy Brown has lost hearing in both ears, her female competition has been seriously diminished.

Harman stops short of calling herself a feminist, but she has strong opinions about the problem with most female rappers.

“You can see in the music that they’re trying to follow in the footsteps of guys because that’s what’s successful,” Harman said. “But it’s like, ‘Come on! Have your own opinions.’ ”

“There are a lot of talented females out there, but the record companies are looking for a pretty face,” she continued. “They’re not all glam. They’re ‘hood rats like me. Especially the female MCs from the U.K. that I know -- they’re not showing off.”

Harman’s hip-hop career started as a bedroom hobby just more than three years ago. She posted some 30-second audio snippets of herself freestyling onto a self-made website, which in turn was linked to other underground grime URLs. She also “wormed” her way into performing before small crowds.

“If someone I knew was DJing, I’d be like, ‘Please let me come get on the mike,’ ” she remembered. “I’d have to beg. I’d do small little outdoor festivals with 10 people watching me.”

The rapper also worked odd jobs such as filling doughnuts and selling windows door-to-door. But after cutting several “white label” DJ singles and releasing songs through an independent U.K. label, Casual Records, she built an in-the-know following and triggered a bidding war at home.

“All the major labels were after me: Sony, Parlophone, Island, Universal -- and I had no management,” Harman said. She eventually signed a deal with Universal.

Last August, Island Def Jam’s Stevenson brought Harman to the attention of Jay-Z, who flew her from London to New York.

“I must have been star struck,” Harman said of Jay-Z. “I grew up listening to him and he’s a legend.”

Stevenson recalled the encounter differently.

“It wasn’t the dream meeting where she nailed it and left with the record deal,” he said. “It was a nightmare.”

By happenstance Jay-Z’s pal, R&B; phenom Usher, decided to sit in along with Island Def Jam Chairman Antonio “L.A.” Reid. When Jay-Z requested Harman “spit a rhyme” on the spot, their presence overwhelmed her.

“Here’s this girl who has come from nothing, not a world traveler, and she’s sitting in Jay’s office and he’s asking her to freestyle,” Stevenson said. “And then Usher came in. I watched the blood drain from her face.”

Even though she had apparently blown the audition, Harman eventually won over label honchos with her combination of teenage blitheness and can-do determination. She quickly assembled a band and dazzled at an industry showcase.

These days, a host of hip-hop’s biggest producers are getting in line to collaborate with the self-described “multitalented munchkin.” Her album is due in early summer.

Appearing somewhat exhausted on the eve of her final tour date, and complaining of mild whiplash after riding a roller coaster at Knott’s Berry Farm earlier in the day, Lady Sovereign has no intention of rethinking her game plan -- to the extent that there ever was one.

“I don’t think forward. It’s dangerous,” Harman said, glancing at her signature gold sovereign coin ring. “You get expectations and if it doesn’t happen, it’ll bash you up on the way.

“If you take it as it comes, it’s more comfortable. That’s how I’ve been doin’ it since Day One.”