Napsack
Shyheim Lyrics


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Chorus 2X:
Napsack on my back
Napsack on my back
Napsack on my back
(I carry a full pack)

[Shyheim]
I rocks the blocks with the rugged hip-hop
And I can't be stopped cause my jam pumps like Reebok
Go get a grip as I flip the bic
Don't slip cause I rip shit and I'll packs a biscuit
So make em jump jump cause I gotta pump pump
I'll stick it in your gut and see who jumps up
So tell me now do you think you can hang
With the Wu (Wu) Tang (Tang) boom (boom) bang bang
Crunch that blast up the trunk of a punk
With the funk that gots em doin the drunken monk
On the Shaolin beatbox cause I rocks steady
Don't sweat me cause I get crazy like Eddie
Boom-bah, some say I am a superstar
Tell em all I am what I am baby paw
And my beats, fatter than fat, they're not funny
Cause these drums remind me of One's 4 Da Money
Now tell me that me and are can't drop hits
Then you heard it but then you tried to rhyme and got dissed
My style, my flow for real will have you chumped
And I get like Ziggy and toss it up

Chorus 4X

[Shyheim]
My styles is dope so call the kid dynamite
I writes the rhymes that's redder than bloodsight
A trail of thunder with rugged hardcore
When I rips the crowd the dancefloor gets sore
I laid down my game with my shade and razor cane
I laid down my game and parlayed with my gang
A little rascal was a bad little bastard
(So you're the rugged child) I see you're learnin fast kid
Get the message I rapped several texts
So don't even try to step to this with that old bullshit
On how you better me and how you could do me
Come on son, cause you know my style is groovy
To the max as I watch and give a beatin
And I got more bats in me than Michael Keaton

Chorus 4X

[Shyheim]
I'm kickin master Wu-Tang slang cause I'm a slinger
I got a magic grip so you could call me Golden Fingers
I'm rough and I'm tough but I keep it on profile
want to peep my style take a ride to the Isle
I'll meet you on the other side, we'll take ya dollar man
To prove to my fans that I really am the man
The hardcore shorty that will keep ya head boppin
And while I keep rockin your ears will start poppin
To that freaky flow and all that old good shit
And not to be conceited but hey, the shoe fits
Gimme room, I love to hear the next competition
So I can prepare to give another ass whippin
Short sneaky Shy-Shy the kid with the props
I'll make your heart stop at the pop of a glock
A Tech-9, an uzi, so what can you do me?
But take his advice be the next one to sweat me





Chorus 4X

Overall Meaning

In Shyheim's song "Napsack," the rapper expresses his skills and pride as a hip-hop artist. The chorus repeats the line "napsack on my back" to emphasize his readiness to carry the weight of the rap game. He boasts about his ability to pump up his crowds and leave them jumping and jumping with his beats. Shyheim takes pride in his unique style and flow, calling himself a superstar and asks his listeners, "Do you think you can hang with the Wu-Tang boom boom bang bang?" He warns his competitors not to try to outdo him with "that old bullshit," as he is "rough and tough but [keeps] it on a profile," making him a force to be reckoned within the hip-hop world.


Throughout the song, Shyheim demonstrates his lyrical prowess by using metaphors and creative wordplay to describe his style. He compares himself to a slinger, calling his grip "magic" and himself "Golden Fingers." He also mentions that his beats are fatter than fat and his drums remind him of "One's 4 Da Money." He concludes by saying that he is the "kid with the props" and will make the competition's "heart stop at the pop of a glock."


Overall, Shyheim's "Napsack" is a declaration of his skills and readiness to take on any challenge thrown his way in the rap game.


Line by Line Meaning

Napsack on my back
I am carrying a full pack on my back


Napsack on my back
I am carrying a full pack on my back


Napsack on my back
I am carrying a full pack on my back


I rocks the blocks with the rugged hip-hop
I dominate the streets with tough hip-hop music


And I can't be stopped cause my jam pumps like Reebok
My music pumps like Reebok, making it impossible to stop me


Go get a grip as I flip the bic
Hold on tight as I light the lighter


Don't slip cause I rip shit and I'll packs a biscuit
Don't make a mistake because I destroy everything and I carry a gun


So make em jump jump cause I gotta pump pump
I make them jump because I have to pump up the volume


I'll stick it in your gut and see who jumps up
I'll shoot you in the stomach and see who reacts


So tell me now do you think you can hang
Do you think you can handle me and my crew


With the Wu (Wu) Tang (Tang) boom (boom) bang bang
We are the Wu-Tang Clan and we make loud music


Crunch that blast up the trunk of a punk
I blast the music so loud it shakes the car of a weak person


With the funk that gots em doin the drunken monk
My music is funky and it makes people dance crazy


On the Shaolin beatbox cause I rocks steady
I am skilled at Shaolin-style beatboxing and I am a reliable artist


Don't sweat me cause I get crazy like Eddie
Don't worry about me, I am going to go wild like Eddie Murphy


Boom-bah, some say I am a superstar
Boom-bah, some people think I am a celebrity


Tell em all I am what I am baby paw
Tell everyone I am who I am, baby


And my beats, fatter than fat, they're not funny
My beats are so fat, it's not a laughing matter


Cause these drums remind me of One's 4 Da Money
My drumbeat reminds me of the song 'One's 4 Da Money'


Now tell me that me and are can't drop hits
Now say that I and my friends can't create popular music


Then you heard it but then you tried to rhyme and got dissed
You heard it but then you tried to compete with me and failed


My style, my flow for real will have you chumped
My style, my flow is so real it will make you look foolish


And I get like Ziggy and toss it up
And I get wild and throw everything up like Ziggy Marley


My styles is dope so call the kid dynamite
My styles are great, just call me 'Kid Dynamite'


I writes the rhymes that's redder than bloodsight
I write rhymes that are more vivid than the sight of blood


A trail of thunder with rugged hardcore
I bring a powerful, hardcore sound that cannot be stopped


When I rips the crowd the dancefloor gets sore
When I perform, the crowd dances so hard they get sore


I laid down my game with my shade and razor cane
I expressed myself with confidence and a sharp appearance


I laid down my game and parlayed with my gang
I laid down my game and had fun with my crew


A little rascal was a bad little bastard
I was a troublesome kid


(So you're the rugged child) I see you're learnin fast kid
(So you're the tough kid) I see you're a quick learner


Get the message I rapped several texts
Understand the message I am conveying through several lyrics


So don't even try to step to this with that old bullshit
Don't even try to compete with me anymore with your nonsense


On how you better me and how you could do me
On how you are better than me and how you could beat me


Come on son, cause you know my style is groovy
Come on, because you know my style is cool


To the max as I watch and give a beatin
I go all out and give a beating as I watch


And I got more bats in me than Michael Keaton
I have more power in me than Michael Keaton in the movie 'Batman'


I'm kickin master Wu-Tang slang cause I'm a slinger
I am using Wu-Tang slang because I am good with words


I got a magic grip so you could call me Golden Fingers
I have a magical ability with my hands, you could call me 'Golden Fingers'


I'm rough and I'm tough but I keep it on profile
I'm tough but I keep it low-key


Want to peep my style take a ride to the Isle
If you want to see my style come to the Isle with me


I'll meet you on the other side, we'll take ya dollar man
I'll meet you on the other side and we'll take your money


To prove to my fans that I really am the man
To prove to my fans that I am the real deal


The hardcore shorty that will keep ya head boppin
I am the hardcore young man that will keep you dancing


And while I keep rockin your ears will start poppin
While I keep playing music, your ears will start to pop


To that freaky flow and all that old good shit
To that wild rhythm and all that classic good stuff


And not to be conceited but hey, the shoe fits
I'm not trying to be arrogant, but it's true


Gimme room, I love to hear the next competition
Give me space, I like to hear the next challenger


So I can prepare to give another ass whippin
So I can get ready to beat them up again


Short sneaky Shy-Shy the kid with the props
Short and clever Shy-Shy, the kid with the recognition


I'll make your heart stop at the pop of a glock
I'll shock you with gunshots and make your heart stop


A Tech-9, an uzi, so what can you do me?
A Tech-9 or an uzi, what can you do against me?


But take his advice be the next one to sweat me
But take his advice, be the next one to fear me




Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.
Written by: ARBY QUINN, ARBY TYRONE QUINN, BURT BACHARACH, HAL DAVID, SHYHEIM FRANKLIN

Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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