Paroles In the wall Benny (Rapper)

In the wall

(Cory Mo)
Shout out my nigga Cory Mo, yeah
Butcher coming, nigga
(Summertime Butch)
I don't even, I don't even really like rapping like this, hahaha
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, no, I'm a dope boy, stick a dynamite in every back
Self-made millionaire, no cap (No)
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 bears mad? an effortless, but my relativ?s made backs
Niggas say they getting money, huh?
They tell them niggas pay tax (Pay tax)
But even when they say they selling dope, cause I know these niggas can't rap
And 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
Big 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 all trapped
But they finna throw at me
I turn a typical bandy into a Silicon Valley
I'm getting dope when I'm lying
And 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 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
Need a plug, took a loss
Tell me who I gotta call
Famous runner from the law
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)

Now niggas talk like they kingpins, cause they make for a good convo
But how many niggas really took dope, cross stayed in the 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 for the swing
So get out the way or 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 the jam, we go on the lam, this shit is too hard to fight on appeal
I'm a 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 Corey Moe back at it like we trappin' out of the band though
Bun B and Butcher nigga, UGK and Black Soprano

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
Need a plug, took a loss
Tell me who I gotta call
Famous runner from the law
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)