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Vinzent

Markus Vinzent (Saarbrücken, 12 April 1959) is a historian of religion (specializing in early Christianity, Patristics and Medieval Studies, Historiography, Retromodernity, Religion and Business). He is professor in the Department of Theology & Religious Studies at King's College London, and fellow of the Max Weber Center for Advanced Social and Cultural Studies, Erfurt, Germany. more »

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I do the mileage down the road, I don't give a f*ck
You can't get in without the code, you can't sit with us
Aye, I legit feel like I've been living to die
Don't know if I should shoot a nigga or go cry
A pistol on my hip, I'm riding on my G-shit
Anger issues, I don't do well with that P-shit
She biting on me, save the contact, that's my fleet, bitch
Trap hole, they fucking hurt without the sheet shit
If you don't get the message, nigga, that's the vibe
And I'm ten toes behind my niggas, I'ma ride
Aye, light that shit up, I'ma feel alive
When she gave me head, know that shit was fire
I'm loyal, won't switch up the code
I don't trust niggas, I know they gon' fold
She smelling my Dior cologne
She feeling my Vapormax Nike fit
I told that lil' baby that she give me dome
All them other lil' bitches gon' think she the shit
She curvy, she sexy, I call her coke
These niggas laughing, I'm working, I'm cracking jokes
Ain't no med, but she let me drive the boat
I'm too cold in the summer, I'll wear a coat
I do the mileage down the road, I don't give a f*ck
You can't get in without the code, you can't sit with us
Aye, I legit feel like I've been living to die
Don't know if I should shoot a nigga or go cry
Aye, pistol on my hip, I'm riding on my T-shirt
Anger issues, I don't do well with that peach
She biting on me, say the contact, that's my feet, bitch
Trap hole, they fuckin' her without the sheets
If you don't get the message, nigga, that's the vibe
And I'm ten toes behind my niggas, I'ma ride
They know I'm blurred, they didn't know
I don't promote bad jobs in Roe v. Swerve
We can f*ck the ponies, gang, and with us, well, we blurred
We ain't burnt checks, niggas, niggas, interests isn't curved
We ain't deaf, imputed, we in traffic, no, I'm flurred
They didn't know I don't promote bad jobs in Roe v. Swerve
We can f*ck the ponies, gang, and with us, well, we blurred
We ain't burnt checks, niggas, niggas, interests isn't curved
Look, bitch, I ain't no capper, I'm a rapper
I've been grinding, hope I make it
If that win is the ring, then I'm LeBron
Now watch me take it, when you seein' me
When you seein' me in person, know that I be walkin' fast
Cause that bag callin' my name won't catch me sittin' on my ass
When you see me in person, please do not touch
If I want you, I'm comin', I'm tryin' to f*ck
Momma say, you got one life, so live it up
They didn't know I'm a cat, I got too much luck
They look half common sense, but that shit ain't common
Niggas goin' Fugazi, so they get homage, make vision
It's a thrill like evaporation, it ain't no competition
You think we racin', nigga
I do the mileage down the road, I don't give a f*ck
You can't get in without the code, you can't sit with us
Ayy, I let you quit like I been livin' to die
Don't know if I should shoot a nigga or go cry
Ayy, pistol on my hip, I'm riding on my G-shit
Anger issues, I don't do well with that P-shit
She whittin' on me, say the contact cracks my feet, bitch
Trap all that fuckin' hurt without the sheet shit
If you don't get the message, nigga, this the vibe
And I'm ten toes behind my niggas, I'ma ride
I'ma ride

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