A Gunman is doing life, Rapper accused Of Paying Him Is On Trial

On a November morning in 2020, Dallas rapper Mo3 was driving on Interstate 35 when another car pulled up beside him and a gunman got out. Mo3 crashed, climbed out of his own car, and ran for his life on foot. He did not make it. He was shot on the highway and died at a hospital. He was 28 years old. A bystander in another vehicle was wounded in the gunfire and survived.

Nearly six years later, the man convicted of pulling the trigger is already serving life in prison without parole. On Monday, October 26, 2026, the second act of the case begins in a Dallas courtroom, when jury selection starts in the capital murder trial of Yella Beezy.

Beezy, whose legal name is Markies Conway, is charged with capital murder by remuneration. In plain terms, prosecutors say he hired the killing. They allege he paid Kewon White $40,000 to murder Mo3, whose real name was Melvin Noble, after a long-running dispute between the two Dallas rappers. Conway has pleaded not guilty, and he remains presumed innocent unless prosecutors prove the charge beyond a reasonable doubt.

The road to Monday has been long. White was arrested in December 2020, weeks after the shooting. His own case did not reach trial for years, and when it finally did, it ended fast. On September 4, 2026, a Dallas County jury found White guilty of capital murder after about three hours of deliberations. Judge Chika Anyiam sentenced him to life in prison without the possibility of parole. It was the first guilty verdict among the defendants charged in connection with Mo3's killing.

Then came the twist that now hangs over Beezy's trial. After his conviction, White went on a livestream and publicly denied the central allegation against Beezy: that money ever changed hands. "I didn't get paid to do nothing, bro," White said, insisting he was not saying it just to protect Beezy. Prosecutors have not backed off the charge. White is now listed as a potential witness in Beezy's trial, which means the jury could hear from the convicted gunman himself.

Beezy's trial was supposed to start sooner. Jury selection was originally set for September 14, 2026, but Judge Anyiam granted a continuance after both sides said they needed more time to get and review the transcript from White's trial. Beezy's defense also told the court that an important expert witness would not have been available during the original trial period. Prosecutor Tommy Adams told the court there was a legitimate reason and need for both sides to have the extra time. The judge agreed, and jury selection was moved to October 26.

Another defendant, Devin Brown, also faces a capital murder charge related to the shooting. His case remains separate from White's conviction and from Beezy's upcoming trial.

Courtroom reporting in early October added one more dramatic piece. A longtime friend of Beezy's known as Jose Bodega has agreed to testify against him, according to courtroom reports from an October 6 proceeding, where testimony covered a federal cooperation agreement and the potential benefits tied to it. The timing and full scope of what Bodega will say under oath are not yet clear, but his cooperation is already shaping up to be a major issue at trial. Prosecutors will likely present him as an insider who can speak to what happened behind the scenes. The defense will likely attack the reliability of a witness who stands to gain from cooperating.

Judge Anyiam has already made clear this trial will be run on a tight leash. On September 25, she issued strict courtroom rules: only one pool camera will be allowed to film from the back of the courtroom, no other cameras or audio recording, mobile phones off or on silent, and no media interviews in the hallway outside the courtroom. Anyone who breaks the rules faces contempt of court, with penalties of up to a $500 fine, six months in the county jail, or both.

The stakes could not be higher. A capital murder conviction in Texas can carry a sentence of life in prison without parole or the death penalty. For Beezy, the case is about more than a verdict. It is about whether prosecutors can prove that a rap rivalry turned into a murder-for-hire plot, even as the man who pulled the trigger says he was never paid.

Mo3's family has waited nearly six years for this chapter. White's conviction gave them one verdict. Monday begins the question they have waited longest to see answered: did Yella Beezy pay for the murder, or is he, as he maintains, innocent of it?

The jury will decide.