It’s hard to believe that at the tender age of 31, Snoop Dogg has already become (or rather, proclaimed himself to be) one of hip-hop’s elder statesmen. When we first met Calvin Broadus on “Deep Cover,” he was just a rail-thin prot?g? looming behind Dr. Dre in a black-and-white flannel and White Sox cap.

Since then, Snoop has made one of the defining albums of the gangsta era (Doggystyle), occupied a front seat on the rollercoaster ride that was Death Row Records, had a regrettable stint in the No Limit boot camp, and, most recently and perplexingly, starred in a pseudo-reality show on MTV, had a line of Cadillacs custom-made to his liking and served as the model for, yes, a doll.

There might have been a couple of smoke breaks thrown in there, too.

Of course, his latest album, Paid Tha Cost To Be Da Boss, is rife with the requisite references to Woody Harrelson’s favorite pastime, but these seem to be moot now that Snoop Dogg, who was recently crowned High Times’ “Stoner of the Year,” has sworn off marijuana … We’ll see how long sobriety lasts.

But if a sober Snoop Dogg seems as strange to you as a coherent Ozzy Osbourne, rest assured that Paid Tha Cost maintains that one thing in his persona will always stay the same: pimpin’.

Clearly, song titles like “Pimp Slapp’d,” “Boss Playa” and “I Miss That Bitch” not only showcase Snoop’s unique take on grammar, but also demonstrate that Snoop hasn’t changed his view on femininity one bit since the days of “Ain’t No Fun.” Casual misogyny is a theme that has run rampant through Snoop’s music since the days of Doggystyle, but it was always worked into a larger narrative telling the story of the West Coast hip-hop lifestyle.

Now that Snoop has moved out to the suburbs and given up his vices, the monomaniacal nature of Paid Tha Cost makes it seem like he’s rapping about pimpin’ for lack of anything more compelling. Thankfully, though, because Snoop has always fancied himself to be some sort of hip-hop George Clinton, he’s finally found the right synth- and keyboard- heavy, old-school production aesthetic to complement his lascivious lyricism.

It certainly doesn’t hurt that he went out and got Pharrell Williams of the Neptunes and DJ Premier. The former lends his skilled production hand and Curtis Mayfield-esque crooning to “Beautiful,” transforming the song from lecherous come-on to funked-out R&B groove.

He once again guides “From Tha Chuuuch to Da Palace,” Snoop’s self-congratulatory ode turned dance-floor anthem thanks to Pharrell’s driving synthesizer effects and loopy samples.

Premier gives “The One and Only,” a distinctly East-Coast flavor by lacing it with his trademark spare arrangements and syncopated percussion. The track also finds Snoop in rare form, abandoning his tired playa act for weeded-out wordplay.

Beyond the backup lent to it by big-name producers, Paid Tha Cost doesn’t do much to distinguish itself from the same playa-gimmicky dose of Snoop you’d get on a “The Daily Show” interview or “Behind the Music” special. He’s been on cruise control ever since his audacious debut, which, in all fairness, can be said of 80 percent of artists making music today.

But if Paid Tha Cost To Be Da Boss is any indication, Snoop doesn’t plan on grabbing hold of the wheel anytime soon. The album begs the question: Now that he’s given up drugs and alcohol, what will he rap about after all the THC is finally out of his system and he realizes he’s got a wife and kids?

Grade: B/C