Actually gonna be a bit lazy as I can’t put it better than this from Angus Batey:
What makes SlaughtaHouse so great a work of art is that, while the incipient destruction of hip hop culture through the industry-created rise of the talentless fake gangsta is its key theme, it’s far from its only subject. Indeed, it’s only the title track that explicitly and specifically goes in to full-length detail on the topic: elsewhere, Ace and his associates zoom in on the effects of the self-loathing and the societal damage done by those who peddle lowest-common-denominator bullshit to audiences far too ready to accept it as authentic. If the album was a film, it would have been shot from a dozen or more different vantage points, as if the director had put cameras in buildings on four sides of a city square, the lenses trained down into the centre, showing the action from every angle. Each song is different, yet each ends up revealing another part of the complicated and compelling whole. The reportage Ace had shown consummate skill for on tracks from his debut such as ‘Brooklyn Battles’ is morphed, on ‘Late Model Sedan’, into a lament, and ‘The Big East’ takes up the theme of black-on-black crime’s antithesis of the inclusion and affirmation hip hop had promised to bring to the communities that spawned it. In ‘Who You Jackin’?’, Ace and Perry take on the roles of, respectively, a mugger and a woman ready to defy the statistics and ensure she’s not his next victim - and thereby show how a first-person, ostensibly “gangsta” style, can be used to show how strength, resolve and determination can trump violence and negativity. And it’s all done with plenty of unforced humour, from the kind of juxtapositional joke that underpins ‘Saturday Nite Live’ (contrasting street stick-ups with the comedy TV institution and its promotional catchphrase), to the grimly determined satire of the title track, and on through the little isolated gems of lyrical and musical invention that pepper every song.