About this transcript: This is a full AI-generated transcript of The End Of Yella Beezy: Guilty Of Paying For Mo3's Murder from Hip-Hop Daily, published November 15, 2026. The transcript contains 1,852 words with timestamps and was generated using Whisper AI.
"On November 11, 2020, a rapper named Mo3 was chased down the middle of a Dallas freeway in broad daylight and shot 13 times with a rifle. For more than four years, nobody was charged with ordering it. Then, police came for one of the biggest rappers in Texas, Yella Beezy. After three weeks of..."
[00:00:00] Speaker 1: On November 11, 2020, a rapper named Mo3 was chased down the middle of a Dallas freeway in broad daylight and shot 13 times with a rifle. For more than four years, nobody was charged with ordering it. Then, police came for one of the biggest rappers in Texas, Yella Beezy. After three weeks of testimony, a witness who admitted he lied, a $40,000 cash withdrawal, and rap lyrics played in front of a jury, it all came down to 12 people deciding whether Beezy would spend the rest of his life in prison. And on the six-year anniversary of Mo3's death, they came back with a verdict. In this video, we're breaking down the whole story, from the very beginning. To understand how we got here, you've got to understand who these two were. Yella Beezy, real name Marquise Conway, came up in Oak Cliff, on the south side of Dallas. When he was just 12 years old, his father was killed at their home. The streets pulled him in, but so did music. In 2017, he dropped That's On Me, and the song took over Dallas. It cracked the Billboard Hot 100, went gold, and got him signed to L.A. Reid's label, Hitco. By 2018, he was opening shows for Jay-Z and Beyoncé. Mo3, real name Melvin Noble, came from the other side of town. He was born in McKinney and raised in North Dallas. He started dropping mixtapes in 2014, and his raw street music caught the attention of his idol, Boosie Badass, who took him under his wing. In 2018, he dropped Everybody, and in early 2020, he and Boosie put out a whole album together. Mo3's career was taking off. He was 28 years old, and he had three kids. Two of the hottest rappers in the same city, rising at the same time. And according to prosecutors, there was bad blood between them going back to around 2017. Prosecutors say it started with a comedian named Roy Lee Pate. Roy Lee was close with Mo3, and he'd been going at BZ Online, clowning him and questioning his Oak Cliff ties. The lead detective in the case testified that Mo3 got pulled into that dispute. Then, in the fall of 2018, Roy Lee got shot in a North Dallas parking lot. He survived the shooting, but he died weeks later from complications. And the very next day, Yella BZ got hit up on the Sam Rayburn tollway in Louisville. He was shot three times in his car. He survived, but the shooter was never found. A lot of people in Dallas looked at it as get-back for Roy Lee. In public, both rappers played it cool. In 2019, Mo3 went on Vlad TV and said the beef was nothing. BZ went on Vlad TV, too, and said he didn't even know who Mo3 was. But in that same interview, BZ talked about the people who shot him, and he made it clear he wasn't letting it go. He said he was going to get his lick back. Years later, that interview would end up in front of a jury. And the tension kept building. Mo3 claimed BZ's people had him kept out of a concert, which BZ denied. Then, in early 2020, BZ allegedly got into it with Mo3's manager at a club, and Mo3 went online and called him out. By the end of 2020, everything came to a head. On November 11, 2020, around noon, Mo3 was driving north on I-35 near the Dallas Zoo. According to prosecutors, a gunman in a black Chevy Camaro had been tracking him for hours. When Mo3 stopped his car in the middle lane, the shooter pulled up, got out, and came at him with a rifle. Mo3 tried to run. The gunman chased him down the middle of the freeway on foot and kept firing. A camera on an 18-wheeler caught the entire thing. Police later found 44 shell casings on the highway. A neurosurgeon who was driving right behind Mo3 watched it happen. And when the shooting stopped, he ran over and tried to save his life. But it was too late. The medical examiner later testified that Mo3 was hit by 13 rifle rounds. He was 28 years old, and he never got to see how big his music would get. After his death, his album hit the Billboard 200, and his song Broken Love went double platinum. Dallas was in shock. The next day, Boosie came to town for a vigil. And the day after that, Boosie himself got shot in the leg in Dallas. Police released photos of the gunman, and a witness came forward with a name. On December 9, 2020, federal agents and Dallas police arrested him in Oak Cliff. A man named Devin Brown was arrested on separate charges, and later charged with capital murder, too. Prosecutors say Brown was in the car with White, and that surveillance video shows him walking up on Mo3 in a ski mask. And here's where it gets even more tangled. At the time, Mo3 was dating Jocelyn Jackson, the mother of Devin Brown's two sons. But the Camaro and the rifle were never found. And for more than four years, one question hung over the whole case. Who sent them? Then, on March 20, 2025, Yellebezi was arrested and indicted for capital murder. Prosecutors say he paid for the hit. His bond was set at $2 million, then cut to $750,000. He bonded out, but he was put on house arrest with an ankle monitor, and a judge only let him go to the studio once a week. Then came the fight over his music. Prosecutors wanted to use Bezi's lyrics as evidence. His lawyers argued rap is performance, not a confession. In the end, the judge let jurors hear some of his songs. And that Vlad TV interview, too. Keewon White went on trial first, in August 2026. Jurors saw the freeway video. The detective even testified about White showing up at one of Yellebezi's shows. Prosecutors told the jury White was chosen for the job because he was expendable. White's lawyer argued police could never prove anyone paid him. Jurors also heard from Mothree's mother, who told the court her son was a family man who could always make people laugh. And on September 4, a jury found White guilty of capital murder. He was sentenced to life without parole. Before the sentence came down, Mothree's mother spoke to White directly and told him she forgave him. But the day after his conviction, White went on a live stream and said Bezi never paid him to do anything. His lawyers have since asked for a new trial, claiming a juror kept falling asleep, and he's filed an appeal. Bezi's trial started on October 27. Prosecutors told jurors this was a feud that escalated for years. They walked the jury through the freeway video, the cell phone records, and the money. On November 20, 2020, nine days after Mothree was killed, Bezi withdrew $40,000 in cash. Prosecutors claim White got $20,000 for the hit. The lead detective testified that a middleman coordinated the communication between White, Brown, and Bezi. He showed jurors a message prosecutors say proves Bezi had people who would do the shootings for him. The defense read it completely differently. Another one of Bezi's friends took the stand against him, and jurors watched that Vlad TV interview where Bezi talked about getting his lick back. Then came the moment the whole case seemed built around. Prosecutors called Bezi's childhood friend, Theodore Thomas, a.k.a. Jose Bodega. He had testified to the grand jury that indicted Bezi. But when he took the stand, he pleaded the fifth on almost every question, even as prosecutors confronted him with more than 140 pages of his own grand jury testimony. Days later, he came back and told the court his grand jury story wasn't true. In his words, He said he made it up because he was facing a possible life sentence in a federal drug case, and it felt like the only way out. The judge let prosecutors treat him as a hostile witness. Then, it was the defense's turn. Bezi's lawyer, Toby Shook, went after the money. He pointed out the $40,000 came out after the murder, not before, and that Bezi pulled out other big amounts after a $350,000 wire from his record label. And the cash police found on white was ones and tens. Bezi withdrew hundreds and fifties. The defense called a marketing executive from Bezi's label, who testified he was in California for a promo trip that started the day before Moe 3 was killed. Prosecutors fired back with a text she sent the day of the shooting, saying the team needed to strategize and craft a response, before Moe 3 was even declared dead. Bezi's aunt testified that he regularly handed out $10,000 to $30,000 in cash to support his family. And the defense pointed the finger at Devin Brown, saying Brown had his own conflict with Moe 3 over the mother of his children. Their final witness was a digital forensics expert the defense paid about $40,000, and prosecutors went after that hard on cross-examination. On November 10th, both sides gave their closing arguments. Toby Shook told jurors the case rests on speculation, coerced testimony, and tunnel vision. Prosecutors asked them to put the pieces together. The next morning, the jury began deliberating, exactly six years to the day after Moe 3 was killed on that freeway. If Bezi was convicted, he was facing life in prison with no parole. If he was acquitted, he'd walk out of that courtroom a free man. After about six hours behind closed doors, the jury turned on the light. They had a verdict. During deliberations, they had asked to see the rap lyrics, the FBI reports, and the financial records. Then, all 12 of them walked back into the courtroom. Guilty. Capital murder. The jury found that Yella Bezi paid to have Moe 3 killed. And the verdict came down on November 11th, 2026, six years to the day after Moe 3 was chased down that freeway. In Texas, when prosecutors don't seek the death penalty, a capital murder conviction carries only one sentence. Bezi was immediately sentenced to life in prison without the possibility of parole. Some people walked out of the courtroom as the verdict was read. Others wept. No one from Moe 3's family gave a victim impact statement. Then, Bezi was handcuffed and led away. His legal team can still appeal. Keewon White, the man who pulled the trigger, is already serving life without parole. And the third man charged, Devin Brown, is still waiting on his own trial. So, the rapper who took over Dallas with, That's On Me, is now facing the rest of his life in a Texas prison. Let us know in the comments what you think about the verdict. And make sure you're subscribed so you don't miss what happens next.