In The Wall (feat. Bun B)

Cory Mo
Shout out my nigga, Cory Mo
Yeah
The Butcher coming, nigga
Summertime Butch
I don't even, I don't even really like rapping like this
I love this shit
I'm lying
You know, this gospel, but you niggas take it the wrong way
You niggas take this shit the wrong way, though
Let me see
Yeah
Niggas ask if I'm strapped
Hoes ask if I rap
Bitch, nah, I'm a dope boy
Stick of dynamite in every batch
Self-made millionaire, no cap
But it gotta be a catch
Three felonies and I'm Black, still fighting skeletons from way back
They measuring by my melanin, but it's evident that I'm that
The record biz made it effortless, but my relatives made packs
Niggas say they getting money, huh?
Then tell them niggas pay tax
Believe them when they say they selling dope
'Cause I know these niggas can't rap
In the trap, had every ounce for a
Stack, but they caught me in an act
Came home, sent me back on parole, I ain't think I could adapt
Thick girl from Houston, and that ass so
Fat that a rapper sneak-dissed me over that
But I never send one back
Hold up, wait, I'm getting off track
What they finna throw at me?
I turn a typical Bandy into a Silicon Valley
I'm getting dough, but I'm lying if
I say getting broke don't scare me
'Cause the pinnacle when you dealing
Dope is retiring with your family
Drug money for us all, they can't tax what's in a wall
They can't tax what's in a wall, they can't tax what's in a wall
Drug money for us all, they can't tax what's in a wall
They can't tax what's in a wall, they can't tax what's in a wall
Drug money for us all
Ah
Need a plug, took a loss
Yeah
Tell me who I got to call
Yeah
Famous running from the law
Drug money for us all, they can't tax what's in a wall
They can't tax what's in a wall, they can't tax what's in a wall
Ah
Now niggas talk like they kingpins 'cause it make for a good convo
But how many niggas really took dope 'cross state in a car, though?
Left the hood in a rental car with some cocaine and a dirty gun
Hit the cut with 13K worth, came home with 31
Took it right back to the plug, doubled up then doubled back
It's a filthy game and a lame nigga
Like you couldn't even juggle that
So you don't want no trouble, jack, especially not with the king
You don't want to scuffle, you not finna swing
So get out the way, ho, I'm doing my thing
Now, the first time that me and The Butcher linked up, it was low-key
But this time we in beast mode, so niggas 'bout to go OD
Four quarters in a OT, we gon leave it all on the field
If we in a jam, we go on the lam
This shit is too hard to fight on appeal
I'm the rapper that your favorite rapper
Can't feel 'cause he don't like me
But we already knew what that nigga was
When his bitch ass wouldn't fight me
Me and Cory Mo back at it like we trapping out of the bando
Bun B and The Butcher, nigga, UGK and Black Soprano
Drug money for us all, they can't tax what's in a wall
They can't tax what's in a wall, they can't tax what's in a wall
Drug money for us all, they can't tax what's in a wall
They can't tax what's in a wall, they can't tax what's in a wall
Drug money for us all
Ah
Need a plug, took a loss
Yeah
Tell me who I got to call
Yeah
Famous running from the law
Drug money for us all, they can't tax what's in a wall
They can't tax what's in a wall, they can't tax what's in a wall
Ah