Listen to a playlist of Scott Storch-produced hits and share your thoughts here.

The vast majority of the hip-hop industry records during vampire hours. Most artists and producers arrive at the studio around 10 p.m. and work till five or six in the morning, meaning most modern hip-hop is recorded between midnight and 4 a.m. So, just after 10 p.m. one Friday night in Miami, superproducer Scott Storch is on his way to work, driving to the Hit Factory Miami in his white convertible Lamborghini, slicing down the freeway doing eighty, totally stoned.

He's in a red T-shirt, jeans and multihued Nike Air Force Ones, and he's glistening like the morning dew because of an obscene amount of jewelry, including a thirty-four-carat yellow-diamond ring worth $3 million, a thirteen-carat white-diamond ring, a $250,000 diamond-encrusted watch and three iced-out chains around his neck. Call Storch hip-hop's Liberace. He's worth $70 million, the result of his work with Dr. Dre (he co-produced "Still D.R.E."), Beyoncé (he produced "Baby Boy" and "Naughty Girl"), Justin Timberlake ("Cry Me a River"), Lil' Kim ("Lighters Up"), Fat Joe ("Lean Back"), 50 Cent ("Candy Shop") and Chris Brown ("Run It" and "Gimme That"). But even after a slew of great clients, he's still bitter about those few who don't call back.

Storch is driving to the studio to work on a song for Jessica Simpson called "Mr. Operator," another piece of the large body of work he has coming out in the next year, including songs he made with Nas, Ludacris, the Game, Mario, Eve, Mya and Jay-Z. "I'm working with Jay-Z on his new album," Storch says, the Lamborghini engine behind his shoulder roaring like a lion. "The first time we ever really worked together. We got some fire." He's also working on an album for Brooke Hogan, Hulk's daughter, which will be the first release from Storch's new label, Tuff Jew. "I heard her sing and I thought, 'She's not just a celebrity's daughter.'"

Storch is thirty-two, super-rich and draped in the massive self-confidence of a successful producer. An artist's success is due to talent and hard work, as well as elements much harder to quantify like image, timing and It factor, but a successful producer knows he has made it on intelligence, taste and work ethic, and not unquantifiables. Storch is filled with the self-satisfied arrogance particular to multimillionaire hip-hop superproducers like Pharrell and Kanye. He carries himself like a prince strolling through the kingdom with nary a care. He's cocooned by quite an entourage (five assistants, a team of armed bodyguards, a driver, assorted friends and hangers-on), so there's always someone nearby, ready to do anything he wants -- get some tea, roll up a joint, pull out the Ferrari. Superproducers like Storch, Pharrell and Kanye are hip-hop's answer to Bill Gates and Steve Jobs, the nerds who grew up and took over. But as much as artists need producers, producers need artists, too, so right now, as his Lamborghini smooths through the Miami night, Storch is in a bit of a foul mood, upset that some of the superstars who are on his résumé are not in his future.

"I worked with Beyoncé on her last album," Storch says. "I wasn't invited to the new album. I only delivered three hit records last time. But a lot of artists figure they want to try something different. Whatever. There's certain artists who are loyal and certain ones don't really care and don't give you the opportunity to follow through with them again. I'm insulted by a lot of the artists I delivered hits to."

Like who?

"Like Christina Aguilera." Storch made seven songs for her most recent album, Stripped, two of them singles, and helped her sell 12 million records worldwide, but he's not working on her new album, Back to Basics. "I told [Christina's people] I needed a private plane to get out to L.A.," he says. "I had to bring equipment, clothes, my people. You want me to move my life from Miami to L.A. for six months, and you can't get me a plane to do it? She didn't go to bat for me. And I truly cared about her as a person and a friend and as an artist."

But the situation most upsetting to him now is the as-yet-unreleased album by his ex-girlfriend Paris Hilton. "She's cool," he says, "and she surprised me not as a singing talent, but she has a cool little timbre in her voice that's reminiscent to Blondie and Cyndi Lauper." He made nine songs for her album. (He says they made records but not movies.) "I put my heart and soul into that. I delivered incredible music. She's a wild girl, and within my music I think I captured the essence of what Paris really is in life." They cut sassy club pop such as Britney might make, records for the clubs that pivot not around Hilton's voice but around her cult status and sexual image.

But recently Hilton's label decided Storch's work was too racy for the audience it wanted to attack. For Hilton's first single the label chose "Stars Are Blind," a bouncy Euro-reggae song produced by Fernando Garibay, known for his work with Enrique Iglesias and Ashlee Simpson. Storch was not pleased. "They came to Scott Storch," he says, "and I gave 'em some hot shit, and they smacked me in my face and disrespected me. The record label has destroyed the introduction stage of Paris' project. [The first single they chose] is a safe, contemporary pop record. My stuff is more daring, and I feel like it would've been something to open people's eyes." Now he's unsure if all nine of the songs he made will be on the album.