Lyrics Now You Know - Ab-Soul

Now You Know

Try to relax, try to relax
I know you’re anxious, baby
I know you’re anxious, for me
But you just gotta try to relax, try to relax
I wrote the majority of this rap on a bean bag under the JMZ train tracks,
the Bro P on the motherfucking boards, homeboy
(If you don’t know, now ya know nigga)
Went from Del’s liquor to Deli’s in the Bronx nigga
I’m just a youngin from Del Amo
With a belt by Ferragamo doin' what I want to
You know what I’m up to
I hit the Bodega for the backwoods
Pack of dutchies if you lucky nigga
Cups with the ice just doing just doing what I want to
You know what I’m up to, You know what I’m up to
(Git up, git out and git something)
You know what I’m up to, You know what I’m up to
(Git up, git out and git something)
Aye, you know what I’m up to
I swear to God I wish I wrote this fucking verse on Mother’s Day
That ain’t got shit to do with this or does it?
Fuck it, Anyway
I’ve been miseducated, mislead, misinterpretated, misunderstood, mistaken,
misjudged
That’s why I’m a misfit, up to mischief
On a mission, in a missionary
Hittin missionaries (missionaries)
That was all mises, terms with 'mis' prefixes to be specific
All you feminists should be on my dick for this shit (word)
But listen close, this where shit get tricky
What all these words have in common is that they’re all iffy
Hence misogyny, obviously
I’d switch the 'y' in 'mystery' with 'i' if I could (I would)
If you was Huey you would know it nigga
But you’re not so I guess y’all good
So one time for the women, two times for the ladies, three times for the bitches
Don’t forget about the bitches
Adam’s rib ain’t adding up, this story must be more extensive (YMF nigga)
Meiosis, mitosis and some mo' shit
Noah had motion in the ocean before his boat did
And you know why, I love my mama so much
And I can’t watch my lil sister grow up, so I
Went from Del’s liquor to Deli’s in the Bronx nigga
I’m just a youngin from Del Amo
With a belt by Ferragamo doing what I want to
You know what I’m up to
I hit the Bodega for the backwoods
Pack of dutchies if you lucky nigga (cross your fingers)
Cups with the ice just doing what I want to
You know what I’m up to, You know what I’m up to
You know what I’m up to, You know what I’m up to
Yeah baby, you know what I’m up to
You know what I’m up to, You know what I’m up to
You know what I’m up to, You know what I’m up to
You know what I’m up to, You know what I’m up to
You know what I’m up to
Baby, you know what I’m up to
I, Soulo, still a member in good standing of the he-man woman haters club.
Do solemnly swear to be a he-man and hate women and not play with them or talk
to them unless I have to,
and especially, never fall in love, and if I do may I die slowfully and
painfully and suffer for hours, or until I scream bloody murder