album cover
Bone to Pick
3
Contemporary Jazz
Bone to Pick was released on April 26, 2024 by Ropeadope as a part of the album Bad Magic
album cover
Release DateApril 26, 2024
LabelRopeadope
LanguageEnglish
Melodicness
Acousticness
Valence
Danceability
Energy
BPM109

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Bright Dog Red
Bright Dog Red
Performer
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Matthew Joseph Coonan
Matthew Joseph Coonan
Songwriter
Tyreek Antoine Jackson
Tyreek Antoine Jackson
Songwriter
Joseph Michael Pignato
Joseph Michael Pignato
Songwriter

Lyrics

Bright dog got a bone to pick, yeah.
Breaker-break of dawn, yeah, I’m poking my snare.
Bunch of Bonaparte’s trying to pull us all apart,
man y’all just need to park it up in your armchair.
Thinking I’m scared?
Better beware, I bare teeth.
You want to bare arms, but barely want peace.
And we bury our grief, bury our grief.
They preparing y’all sheets—Perignon, charcuterie.
Ain’t nothing new to me,
I just do the deed
like diddly-doo-dee-dee
cause that’s what my duty be.
They’d rather us union free.
That’s not really free though…
And now we got be the goons in the street
exhuming the police
for the murder and the burden of the grief.
And the chief won’t speak.
I’m talking in my sleep again.
The night terrors all creeping in,
they steady seeping in.
Got to recalibrate the mission.
Need to install a new wisdom.
Ring the alarm, we all glisten.
Bomb the wrong system, call the morticians.
All the board, this is
your new and improved captain speaking, kid.
//
Bright dog got a bone to pick, yeah.
Buried in the backyard under my cares.
Burn it all down, I’ma burn it all down
to the bitter, bitter end.
I ain’t do it, I swear.
Why would I dare
mess with the architecture
‘fore I start the lecture?
I’ma mark the pressure.
Yeah, the darkest treasure ain’t found yet.
Have you ever seen a crown sweat?
You know I’m down to get around the brown nosing.
Too late to the town stoning—my bad.
Should of seen the amount of homework I had,
roads that I paved,
poems that I snapped.
Now who gonna keep this engine on track
as I bend it on back to the crack of dawn?
Want to be a samurai but you lack the form.
I attack the norm as a massive swarm.
Talking buzz, I got it.
Trust I’m ‘bout it.
And I don’t
touch narcotics.
I get my
rush undoubted-
ly from rhyme I kick to your eardrum.
Fearsome young sick-witted, little fictitious.
Yeah, I need a quick digit for the beer fund.
You a mere chum.
Get tossed over the pier, son.
And I test out of beats like Pearson.
I pierce son with a spear, I don’t fear guns.
Double-check the dimension I appeared from.
Skin seared from the sun, I’m a real one.
Written by: Joseph Michael Pignato, Matthew Joseph Coonan, Tyreek Antoine Jackson
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