"I'm this close to just leakin my shit like its a mixtape," Ab-Soul tweeted in frustration back in May. It's a tough spot for Ab, the most lyrical member of one of the most celebrated rap groups of the moment, to find himself in. The last time he released a project, the formidable Control System, it was 2012, the halcyon year of TDE: Schoolboy Q had scored the group's first radio success with Habits & Contradictions' "Hands on the Wheel", and Kendrick Lamar's major-label debut was a bright spot forming on the horizon. Back then, Lamar was a star-in-the-making, but not yet a star, and his crew's chemistry was in full bloom.

Since then, Kendrick has crossed over—into platinum sales, apology texts from Macklemore, subliminal feuds with Drake—while Schoolboy, several tiers beneath his leader, toils in rap's middle class. When I saw him perform an obligatory, dead-eyed in-store at a Beats store in February, he dryly pointed to the terrible sound system as an indicator of his status: "A nigga gotta go platinum," he joked. Oxymoron performed respectably on the album charts, but it also broke decisively with the moody, cinematic feel of the first flush of TDE releases. It was a major-label effort, through and through, the strain of compromise pulling at even its strongest cuts.

Ab-Soul, it was recently revealed, was never signed to Interscope. It's a poignant revelation, one casting Ab as the last-picked kid in gym class. In the meantime, Isaiah Rashad may have eaten his lunch. But These Days..., which finally sees release this week, doesn't seem to mind. It's a 2012-era Black Hippy release through and through, with the sprawling runtime (90-plus minutes), resonant repeated catchphrases, and grey-toned mood to prove it.

"Last-picked kid at gym class" suits Ab best anyway, since he reps the underdogs at every opportunity. He has a thing for commercial pariahs: He is probably one of five living rappers in America who still eagerly namechecks Canibus as an influence; he called Slaughterhouse "the illest lyricists in the game." He's certainly the only Black Hippy member giving 16-plus bars to Asaad ("Stigmata"), a Philly firebrand best known for releasing a mixtape with 2Pac sodomizing Biggie on the cover.

He's a proud pipsqueak, in other words, the self-appointed nerd of a cerebral crew. On the opening track "God's Reign", produced by Purity Ring's Corin Roddick (who's building an impressive sideline in hip-hop), he raps "Got your lady with literature in her Louis bag, got your kids studying outside of class", while on "Dub Sac" he wants us to remember that "martial law could happen any second!" He embraces his outsider status, filling his raps with struggling mid-level rapper details: On "Tree of Life", he recalls selling out S.O.B.'s, a time-honored rite of passage, and gives us his version of being hounded by paparazzi: Fans holding him up for pictures in the bus station terminal.

The more human Ab-Soul dares to be on record, the stronger he becomes. On Control System, he narrated his battle with Stevens-Johnson syndrome and mourned the death of his partner and collaborator Alori Joi, and on the intensely emotional "Closure," he sings to an old flame. "I wonder if you still praying to the east, I wonder if you ever forgave me."

That doesn't make him heavy, though—Ab's on-record presence is primarily a playful one. On the infectiously simple DNYC3-produced ratchet ("Good Day," "Faded") cut "Twact," he makes an "Arabian Knight/ Camel toe" joke that belongs at a middle-school lunch table. He repurposes the chorus of Chief Keef's "Love Sosa" on "Feelin' Us" and mockingly signs a broken-down version of "Hail Mary" on the Danny Brown-featuring "Ride Slow" as if he's purposefully misremembering it. On "Hunnid Stax", he's "splitting clits with a money clip"—a very vivid mental image—and on "Ride Slow" he raps slyly about the "residue on my debit card." The margins of the songs overflow with lots of in-studio goofing—especially on the album's hidden final track "W.R.O.H.", when Ab freestyles endlessly for an impressed group of friends.

Speaking of friends, there are new ones here: Rick Ross is on "Nevermind", and Puff even drops by to mumble something. Lupe Fiasco shows up on "World Runners". Schoolboy, Jay Rock, and, Kendrick are all here too, and you can hear some of his labelmates' success in the margins: "Collard Greens" plays in the background at the end of "God's Reign", and Kendrick raps on a freeform interlude that mimics Ab-Soul's appearance on Section.80. These sorts of callbacks and embedded references used to be part of what made Black Hippy special; here, they feel like nostalgia.