Well. I'd just use a dog. Put a large raincoat on it, and tape me drugs inside. I'd walk the bugger for a few months till the border guards got used to seeing it. Actually several dogs. But they'd all look pretty much the same. Something harmless looking like a giant poodle. I'd call them all Jim Bowen. After that chap from that thing. Spray the drugs with Cologne to throw the sniffer dogs off the scent.
Or I'd just drive through the border with me drugs in the inner tube of my tyres. Specially made, obviously. They wouldn't have to last long. Swop 'em over a mile each side. Pretend I had a puncture if anyone passed by.
Or just use an unknowing mule. Say a hitchhiker. Chat to them, find out what hostel they were staying in. Get em out of the car to take a photo of me at a Service Station. Meanwhile my mate slips my drug consignment in their suitcase. Then if they get caught at the border, plead ignorance. Then quietly retrieve the drugs by sending them into say a shop to buy me something, while I either get the drugs out, or just drive off and leave them there. Go through their luggage, nick their passport, and set myself up with a nice little false identity. Then anonymously call the Mexican police, and say I'd seen them looking all shifty and they'd tried to sell me drugs in the toilet of the service station. Put on a posh accent. The police pick them up and what do they find? The drugs I've planted in their back pocket, that's what! Plus an obviously fake passport and some obviously fake currency in a wallet!
Or just drop 'em off before the border. Let some other bugger take em through. Tail them, then intercept them as they get out. Take 'em down an alley and tell them to open their blinking suitcase. Give 'em a little cut on the cheek with me blade, and say, keep it to yourself, mate. And by the way, I took some photos of my drugs in your suitcase with your nametag on. Plus there's traces on your clothes from when I was being all friendly and gave you that hug. So I'd keep quiet if I were you. Unless you want me to slice off your Jacobs.
Now, here's 50 quid. Go forth and prosper!