[Intro]
(169, you feel me?)

[Verse 1]
Used to wear wallabies to school
I was wearing wallabies
Bitches never wanted me
Work gettin' on top of me too, mm
And now my trainers, hundreds
Beanies Wanna lie with you when you have trueys in abundance
'Cause you can't have fun without fundin'
Why have guns with no gunmen?
Why have knives just to dump them?
We don't see fathers
Get a shank to your face, yeah that's street karma
Trainers 4-something, you can't deech Pradas
And I still take the train to college
And I was still make a major profit
And I'll still see whip money
Jump out of the strip money
Take a n***as bitch money
N***as think you're rich money
Try and take your bitch money
Still I've got that sick money
Might just buy a stick money
Run you out your strip money, nah
Look
[Chorus]
All my n***as running to the money
We be running like ay, ay, ay, ay
And all my n***as running from them hoes in the roads like whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa
Like whoa, a month ago you didn't wanna know, but now, I'm seein' dough
These catties they be calling up my phone
All these mandem and they applaud me on the road

[Verse 2]
I put corn in for my bro
N***as keep on talking on a low
N***as keep talkin on a low, but all my n***as bros
All my n***as, all my n***as bros
My n***as have your n***as on the ropes
I'll have n***as on your roads
N***as on my strip or on my phone
With a brick or with a pole
I've got n***as that will hit a kid with both
Now I'm dressing in a different set of clothes
Gucci and the Prada brings the hoes, but

[Chorus]
All my n***as running to the money
We be running like ay, ay, ay, ay
And all my n***as running from them hoes in the roads like whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa
Like whoa, a month ago you didn't wanna know, but now, I'm seein' dough
These catties they be calling up my phone
All these mandem and they applaud me on the road
[Verse 3]
Shout out to my educated females
You got a job up the highstreet doing retail
But you tryna take your tests, you doing theory
So you can't really focus, you can't sleep well, nah
Shout out to my women without no father
She's still rocking Michael Kors in Zara
She'll die in designer
All broke bitches want to fight her
She doesn't give them wood for the fire, no
Shout out to my women with degrees
Shout to my young'un with the P's doing GCSEs
Shout out to my women with the Fs and the Es and the Ds
Double Ds on her chest they're so pleasing
Shout out to my young'uns on the street then
Tell 'em you gotta stop thinking about the beef and get the P's then
Shout out to my olders on the street then, 24 Z, I woulda never wanna never wanna be them (169)

[Chorus]
All my n***as running to the money
We be running like ay, ay, ay, ay
And all my n***as running from them hoes in the roads like whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa
Like whoa, a month ago you didn't wanna know, but now, I'm seein' dough
These catties they be calling up my phone
All these mandem and they applaud me on the road