Joell Ortiz, Novel - Night Train lyrics

I i’ve been going crazy
Working past midnight on that night train
So I lay down my tracks
But, I can’t complain
I’m not going to give up
'Til the whole world knows my name! Oh, I

Hate the sound of that alarm clock
I got to get myself up while it's still dark
Half sleep, waiting on that damn train
Last week I almost quit and pop the champagne
To celebrate in longer havin' to struggle
But, I didn't
In fact I stayed longer and did a double
I feel like a sell out
All of my niggas hustle
But my children got me not
Wanting to get in trouble
So everyday I report to this mean guy
Call him boss and swallow my
Pride when he screams high
Same work same ten minute break
Same money after taxes to the
Feds and the State
Same amount of bills still
Sitting in the mail
Same elevator full of piss so it smells
Same TV shows at night while I’m in bed
So this plays over and over inside my head

Hate the sound of the patrol cars
You see I tried the honest life
But it was so hard so I cashed my last check
And bought a couple grams
Now my dough ain't in the bank
It's in a rubber band
I'm my own boss, don't answer to nobody
When my phone ring I go down to my own lobby
And make a lick in sweatpants
No more uniforms
No work boots my feet sit in Louis Vuitton
When there's drama I make sure
That my Ruger's drawn
They constantly try and test you
You got to prove 'em wrong
You got to keep your work good
You can't lose your horns
You got to know to be a king
You got to use your pawns
If you ain't there to see somebody
Else cause you was gone
So you still gotta be out
There before the roosters yawn
You got to duck the d-text
When they cruise along
The fast life ain't all that
Homie you've been warned

Hate the comments from the haters gums:
"I don’t see the big deal
The shit he say is dumb"
"I can’t believe they said his
Energy's the same as pun's"
"He ain’t ask for that release
Dre gave him one"
Y'all crazy y'all don't listen to the words?
How the adjective describes the noun
Sitting with the verb
I’m bigger than the bird
I’m Hip-Hop’s new Blackberry
Ya'll niggas still mimicking the Curve
I deliver with a swerve like a
Whip that hit the curb
When they finish with the brick
They couldn’t listen to you herbs
Ya'll painful like junk food
Sitting in the nerves
So when they say you top ten
Hell yeah I get disturbed!
I turn to MTV and the cribs are just absurd
And I ain't got no money
Like Timbaland and Fert
But it won’t be long before
I’m living in the burbs
Cause, I work hard I pray
And I'm sizzling ya heard?