In The Wall (Feat. Bun B)

(Cory Mo)
Shout out my nigga, Cory Mo
yeah (yeah)
The Butcher comin', 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 we strapped, hoes ask if I rap
Bitch, no, I'm a dope boy, stick a dynamite in every back
Self-made millionaire, no cap (nah)
But it gotta be a catch (uh)
Three felonies and I'm back
Still fighting skeletons from way back (uh)
They measuring by my melanin, but it's evident that I'm that (nigga)
The record bears made it effortless, but my relatives made backs (nigga)
Niggas say they getting money, huh? Then tell them niggas pay tax (pay tax)
Believe 'em when they said he's selling dope
'Cause I know these niggas can't rap (ah)
And the trap had every ounce for a stack, but they caught me in the act
Came home, sent me back on parole, I ain't think I could adapt
Big girl from Houston, and that ass so fat
That a rapper sneak-dissed me over that
But I never sent one back
Hold up, wait, I'm getting off track
What they finna throw at me?
I turned a typical bandy into a Silicon Valley (Silicon Valley)
I'm getting dough, and I'm lying if I say getting broke don't scare me (ah)
'Cause the pinnacle when you dealing dope
Is retiring with your family

Drug money for us all, they can't tax what's in the wall
They can't tax what's in the wall
They can't tax what's in the wall
Drug money for us all, they can't tax what's in the wall
They can't tax what's in the wall
They can't tax what's in the wall
Drug money for us all (ah)
Need a plug, took a loss (yeah)
Tell me who I gotta call (yeah)
Famous, running from the law (brick money, nigga)
Drug money for us all, they can't tax what's in the wall
They can't tax what's in the wall
They can't tax what's in the 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 cocaine and a dirty gun
Hit the cup with 13K worth, came home with thirty-one
Took it right back to the plug, doubled up, then double 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 wanna scuffle, you not finna swing
So get out the way while 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 the OT, we gon' leave it all on the field
If we in a jam, we go in the Lamb'
This shit too hard to fight on appeal
I'm a rapper that your favorite rapper can't feel 'cause he don't like me
We already knew what that nigga was when his bitch-ass wouldn't fight me
Me and Cory Mo back at it like we trappin' out in the bando
Bun B and The Butcher, nigga
UGK and Black Soprano (yeah)

Drug money for us all, they can't tax what's in the wall
They can't tax what's in the wall
They can't tax what's in the wall
Drug money for us all, they can't tax what's in the wall
They can't tax what's in the wall
They can't tax what's in the wall
Drug money for us all (ah)
Need a plug, took a loss (yeah)
Tell me who I gotta call (yeah)
Famous, running from the law (brick money, nigga)
Drug money for us all, they can't tax what's in the wall
They can't tax what's in the wall
They can't tax what's in the wall (ah)