Minneapolis rapper Slug is an interior dude, and his ghetto is an emotional one. “I sleep next to women that I don’t deserve/They like to hurt my pride while I work they nerves” is among the more naked lines on a record that gamely tries to get with mainstream hip-hop concerns. But whether goofing on horror-core (“We came here to slit your throat/You came here to sniff some coke”) or asking constituents to “make noise for the women that swallow stuff,” the realest dramas are the ones in his head, as when he confesses, “[I’m] still waitin’ for my date to kiss me or slap me/’Cause there ain’t no way I can be happy when I’m happy.” DON’T MACK AND DRIVE On “Hair,” Slug lets a hot young fan-girl pick him up only to die in a car crash. Like Eminem warned in “Stan,” groupies and motor vehicles don’t mix.
God Loves Ugly