Chords for Logic - No Biggie
Tempo:
84.7 bpm
Chords used:
F
D
E
A
C
Tuning:Standard Tuning (EADGBE)Capo:+0fret
Start Jamming...
RYDZ
Sinatra
If it's all right, you are watching a [F] mess.
Yeah, my name is Rydz, son.
But you know, they call me, a.k.a. [A] Rydz Escobar.
Know what I'm [F] saying?
Cause I'ma be the streets, you know?
I got all [F] kinds of names.
H.R. Paperstack, uh, also known as [C] a.k.a. Horse Choker, [D] uh
Ay [F] yo, I chop you up in 16 pieces, in front of your nieces, while I'm eating Reese's, and won't even offer a penny.
Yes, I [D] spit plenty, this is East Coast flow at it's finest, in the studio with your finest, put a bullet where your spine [E] is.
At 16, I was skipping school and smoking chronic, while you was learning about English, big [Ab] hours, teats, and a bonnet.
Soccer fire is so demonic, writing code like I'm a [N] sonic.
A Jedi master, breaking shit down like old plaster, no [Fm] medication for this track, cause this is how a psycho rips.
My bank account is like casino, vote your pockets, microchips.
[F] Motherfucker, I dare you to test it, hope you're well rested, whoop your ass and [C] get arrested in a double breasted, Louis [E] Vuitton, diamond [F] encrusted, tell a mage suit.
Now that's all Sinatra, everything, I explode like hollow tips on contact, chronologically merged, shmoless, no bringing yo back.
Puffing Cubans and sipping Cognac, montheatic [N] mentality, introduce me to the [Gb] speed and it's fatality.
I kill mics like Conrad [D] Murray, sharp like Hanzo steel, the rest is obtuse, I get loose when sipping goose and rhyme like Doc Seuss.
[B] Flow tight like noose, whoop ass like Bruce, no time for a truce.
[F] Alphabetical, mathematic addict, I spit 16 so erratic you think it was a semi-automatic.
I know by now you're thinking, oh my god, he let him have it, but that was just a loan.
Time to collect like I'm Capone, reap what I've sown, in other words that is the throne.
Tell him, while homie smoking marijuana, if you thinking that this shit is wack, well then you're dead [Eb] wrong.
Cause for every emotion and every mood I [E] have a song.
For the club, [D] for the streets, for the whipping, for the sheets.
[F] Cause this is where intellect and versatility meets, I'm Young Sinatra, backstage telling where Bobby Sox is, I got.
[A] [Gm]
Sinatra
If it's all right, you are watching a [F] mess.
Yeah, my name is Rydz, son.
But you know, they call me, a.k.a. [A] Rydz Escobar.
Know what I'm [F] saying?
Cause I'ma be the streets, you know?
I got all [F] kinds of names.
H.R. Paperstack, uh, also known as [C] a.k.a. Horse Choker, [D] uh
Ay [F] yo, I chop you up in 16 pieces, in front of your nieces, while I'm eating Reese's, and won't even offer a penny.
Yes, I [D] spit plenty, this is East Coast flow at it's finest, in the studio with your finest, put a bullet where your spine [E] is.
At 16, I was skipping school and smoking chronic, while you was learning about English, big [Ab] hours, teats, and a bonnet.
Soccer fire is so demonic, writing code like I'm a [N] sonic.
A Jedi master, breaking shit down like old plaster, no [Fm] medication for this track, cause this is how a psycho rips.
My bank account is like casino, vote your pockets, microchips.
[F] Motherfucker, I dare you to test it, hope you're well rested, whoop your ass and [C] get arrested in a double breasted, Louis [E] Vuitton, diamond [F] encrusted, tell a mage suit.
Now that's all Sinatra, everything, I explode like hollow tips on contact, chronologically merged, shmoless, no bringing yo back.
Puffing Cubans and sipping Cognac, montheatic [N] mentality, introduce me to the [Gb] speed and it's fatality.
I kill mics like Conrad [D] Murray, sharp like Hanzo steel, the rest is obtuse, I get loose when sipping goose and rhyme like Doc Seuss.
[B] Flow tight like noose, whoop ass like Bruce, no time for a truce.
[F] Alphabetical, mathematic addict, I spit 16 so erratic you think it was a semi-automatic.
I know by now you're thinking, oh my god, he let him have it, but that was just a loan.
Time to collect like I'm Capone, reap what I've sown, in other words that is the throne.
Tell him, while homie smoking marijuana, if you thinking that this shit is wack, well then you're dead [Eb] wrong.
Cause for every emotion and every mood I [E] have a song.
For the club, [D] for the streets, for the whipping, for the sheets.
[F] Cause this is where intellect and versatility meets, I'm Young Sinatra, backstage telling where Bobby Sox is, I got.
[A] [Gm]
Key:
F
D
E
A
C
F
D
E
RYDZ
_ _ Sinatra
If it's all right, you are watching a [F] mess.
Yeah, my name is Rydz, son.
But you know, they call me, a.k.a. [A] Rydz Escobar.
Know what I'm [F] saying?
Cause I'ma be the streets, you know?
I got all [F] kinds of names.
H.R. Paperstack, uh, also known as [C] a.k.a. Horse Choker, [D] uh_
Ay [F] yo, I chop you up in 16 pieces, in front of your nieces, while I'm eating Reese's, and won't even offer a penny.
Yes, I [D] spit plenty, this is East Coast flow at it's finest, in the studio with your finest, put a bullet where your spine [E] is.
At 16, I was skipping school and smoking chronic, while you was learning about English, big [Ab] hours, teats, and a bonnet.
Soccer fire is so demonic, writing code like I'm a [N] sonic.
A Jedi master, breaking shit down like old plaster, no [Fm] medication for this track, cause this is how a psycho rips.
My bank account is like casino, vote your pockets, microchips.
[F] Motherfucker, I dare you to test it, hope you're well rested, whoop your ass and [C] get arrested in a double breasted, Louis [E] Vuitton, diamond [F] encrusted, tell a mage suit.
Now that's all Sinatra, everything, I explode like hollow tips on contact, chronologically merged, shmoless, no bringing yo back.
Puffing Cubans and sipping Cognac, montheatic [N] mentality, introduce me to the [Gb] speed and it's fatality.
I kill mics like Conrad [D] Murray, sharp like Hanzo steel, the rest is obtuse, I get loose when sipping goose and rhyme like Doc Seuss.
[B] Flow tight like noose, whoop ass like Bruce, no time for a truce.
[F] Alphabetical, mathematic addict, I spit 16 so erratic you think it was a semi-automatic.
I know by now you're thinking, oh my god, he let him have it, but that was just a loan.
Time to collect like I'm Capone, reap what I've sown, in other words that is the throne.
Tell him, while homie smoking marijuana, if you thinking that this shit is wack, well then you're dead [Eb] wrong.
Cause for every emotion and every mood I [E] have a song.
For the club, [D] for the streets, for the whipping, for the sheets.
[F] Cause this is where intellect and versatility meets, I'm Young Sinatra, backstage telling where Bobby Sox is, I got.
_ [A] _ _ _ _ [Gm] _ _
_ _ Sinatra
If it's all right, you are watching a [F] mess.
Yeah, my name is Rydz, son.
But you know, they call me, a.k.a. [A] Rydz Escobar.
Know what I'm [F] saying?
Cause I'ma be the streets, you know?
I got all [F] kinds of names.
H.R. Paperstack, uh, also known as [C] a.k.a. Horse Choker, [D] uh_
Ay [F] yo, I chop you up in 16 pieces, in front of your nieces, while I'm eating Reese's, and won't even offer a penny.
Yes, I [D] spit plenty, this is East Coast flow at it's finest, in the studio with your finest, put a bullet where your spine [E] is.
At 16, I was skipping school and smoking chronic, while you was learning about English, big [Ab] hours, teats, and a bonnet.
Soccer fire is so demonic, writing code like I'm a [N] sonic.
A Jedi master, breaking shit down like old plaster, no [Fm] medication for this track, cause this is how a psycho rips.
My bank account is like casino, vote your pockets, microchips.
[F] Motherfucker, I dare you to test it, hope you're well rested, whoop your ass and [C] get arrested in a double breasted, Louis [E] Vuitton, diamond [F] encrusted, tell a mage suit.
Now that's all Sinatra, everything, I explode like hollow tips on contact, chronologically merged, shmoless, no bringing yo back.
Puffing Cubans and sipping Cognac, montheatic [N] mentality, introduce me to the [Gb] speed and it's fatality.
I kill mics like Conrad [D] Murray, sharp like Hanzo steel, the rest is obtuse, I get loose when sipping goose and rhyme like Doc Seuss.
[B] Flow tight like noose, whoop ass like Bruce, no time for a truce.
[F] Alphabetical, mathematic addict, I spit 16 so erratic you think it was a semi-automatic.
I know by now you're thinking, oh my god, he let him have it, but that was just a loan.
Time to collect like I'm Capone, reap what I've sown, in other words that is the throne.
Tell him, while homie smoking marijuana, if you thinking that this shit is wack, well then you're dead [Eb] wrong.
Cause for every emotion and every mood I [E] have a song.
For the club, [D] for the streets, for the whipping, for the sheets.
[F] Cause this is where intellect and versatility meets, I'm Young Sinatra, backstage telling where Bobby Sox is, I got.
_ [A] _ _ _ _ [Gm] _ _