[Verse 1: Harlem male MC, cold and steady] First one landed on a Monday when the trial let out Lonnie took the stand and every word came out his mouth Walked back up to One-Three-Five with his hood down to his eyes Little black bird on the wire, didn't move, just watched him ride Tuesday there was three of 'em, by Wednesday there was nine Grandmas crossed to the other curb, they wouldn't walk his line Whole block said, that's for Lonnie, that's the bill for what he said Man who talks to twelve gets feathers sitting up above his bed [Hook: Harlem male MC, full force] Count the crows, that's a murder Every wire on the block bent low Every one of 'em a witness And they all know who they came for [Verse 2: Harlem male MC, colder and slower] By the weekend it was hundreds when the corner store would close Lined up on the fire escapes in long black rows Lonnie couldn't buy a loosie, couldn't stand on his own stairs Every time he cracked the door, two hundred eyes were there Kids threw rocks, the rocks came down, them birds don't give a damn City sent a man in coveralls who ran back to his van I just leaned against the gate and let him feel it in his chest Told him, birds don't need a lawyer, Lonnie, birds already know the rest [Hook: Harlem male MC, full force] Count the crows, that's a murder Every wire on the block bent low Every one of 'em a witness And they all know who they came for [Bridge: Harlem male MC, stereo narrows, the whole mix closes to the center] Halloween, the moon was orange, Lonnie loaded up a van Drove to his cousin's out in Jersey with a duffel in his hand I went up on the roof to watch the whole flock lift and go Every wing on Lenox rising like a curtain off a show But they didn't follow Lonnie, not a feather, not a one They came down around my shoulders and they blotted out the sun [Verse 3: Harlem male MC, quiet and shaking] Let me tell you what he told 'em on the stand that day Said a man in a gray hoodie, said he had to look away Never gave a name, he never pointed at the back Where I sat in that same hoodie with my hands inside my lap Lonnie wore the snitch jacket so I'd never wear the cell Now there's two hundred on my railing and they know me well Every window on my floor is black, I hear 'em when I breathe Lonnie's halfway down the turnpike and the birds won't let me leave [Final Hook: Harlem male MC, wide again, full force] Count the crows, that's a murder Every wire on the block bent low Every one of 'em a witness And they all know who they came for [Outro: Harlem male MC, low] They was never here for Lonnie It's a murder on the wire for the murderer [End]
