Kill Shot- Michael Johnson ft. Crunchy Captian

rap, angry vocals, two people collabing, two voices

(Intro — sniper bolt click, ocean wind, low bass rumble)
Michael Johnson:
You had your run.

Crunchy Captain:
Now it’s target practice.

Both:
One shot.

Verse 1 — Michael Johnson

I don’t scream when I aim, I just line it up,
No rush in my breath when I tighten up.
You been loud for years, still hollow inside,
All crunch, no core — just sugar and pride.

You built on a gimmick, I built on grind,
You chase attention, I sharpen mine.
You wanted war? Should’ve studied the field,
I don’t miss twice — I make statements sealed.

Hook — Michael Johnson

This the kill shot — silence the noise,
No warning flare, no broken toys.
One clean bar, whole image drop,
Career on pause when the beat go stop.

This the kill shot — precise, no rage,
Just a cold “checkmate” center stage.
You played loud, I played smart,
Now it’s one clean shot to the heart (of the chart).

Verse 2 — Crunchy Captain

Aye, Corn Flakez, you soggy by noon,
Captain in command, I’m steering this tune.
You floatin’ on hype like milk in a bowl,
I sink ships quick, that’s tactical control.

You talk big grains but crumble in heat,
I toast competitors, serve ‘em defeat.
This ain’t breakfast talk, this is war at sea,
You picked the wrong wave tryna paddle at me.

Hook — Both

Kill shot — no dramatic scene,
Just numbers rise and your streams go lean.
Kill shot — no second take,
We cook slow pressure ‘til the weak ones break.

Kill shot — no need to yell,
We let results ring the final bell.
You wanted smoke? You got the plot,
Now say goodbye — that’s the kill shot.

Bridge — Michael Johnson (low, calm)

No anger in it.
No emotion attached.
When I aim —
It’s math.

Verse 3 — Michael Johnson

I don’t beef for clicks, I end for sport,
You built a house of straw — I built a fortress port.
Every line you drop feel microwave warm,
Mine stay heavy like pressure in storms.

You confused buzz with legacy weight,
I build eras — you chase debate.
Now the crowd real quiet, they watchin’ you fall,
‘Cause deep down they knew you was never that tall.

Final Hook — Both (harder delivery)

Kill shot — straight to the myth,
No dramatic fade, just data shift.
Kill shot — headline swap,
From “King of the Box” to “Why He Flopped.”

Kill shot — that’s how it go,
No explosion, just curtain close.
One clean verse, one clean plot,
Michael Johnson. Captain.
Kill shot.

Outro — shell casing drop sound

Crunchy Captain:
Target down.

Michael Johnson:
Next.

2425/7500

(Intro — sniper bolt click, ocean wind, low bass rumble) Michael Johnson: You had your run. Crunchy Captain: Now it’s target practice. Both: One shot. Verse 1 — Michael Johnson I don’t scream when I aim, I just line it up, No rush in my breath when I tighten up. You been loud for years, still hollow inside, All crunch, no core — just sugar and pride. You built on a gimmick, I built on grind, You chase attention, I sharpen mine. You wanted war? Should’ve studied the field, I don’t miss twice — I make statements sealed. Hook — Michael Johnson This the kill shot — silence the noise, No warning flare, no broken toys. One clean bar, whole image drop, Career on pause when the beat go stop. This the kill shot — precise, no rage, Just a cold “checkmate” center stage. You played loud, I played smart, Now it’s one clean shot to the heart (of the chart). Verse 2 — Crunchy Captain Aye, Corn Flakez, you soggy by noon, Captain in command, I’m steering this tune. You floatin’ on hype like milk in a bowl, I sink ships quick, that’s tactical control. You talk big grains but crumble in heat, I toast competitors, serve ‘em defeat. This ain’t breakfast talk, this is war at sea, You picked the wrong wave tryna paddle at me. Hook — Both Kill shot — no dramatic scene, Just numbers rise and your streams go lean. Kill shot — no second take, We cook slow pressure ‘til the weak ones break. Kill shot — no need to yell, We let results ring the final bell. You wanted smoke? You got the plot, Now say goodbye — that’s the kill shot. Bridge — Michael Johnson (low, calm) No anger in it. No emotion attached. When I aim — It’s math. Verse 3 — Michael Johnson I don’t beef for clicks, I end for sport, You built a house of straw — I built a fortress port. Every line you drop feel microwave warm, Mine stay heavy like pressure in storms. You confused buzz with legacy weight, I build eras — you chase debate. Now the crowd real quiet, they watchin’ you fall, ‘Cause deep down they knew you was never that tall. Final Hook — Both (harder delivery) Kill shot — straight to the myth, No dramatic fade, just data shift. Kill shot — headline swap, From “King of the Box” to “Why He Flopped.” Kill shot — that’s how it go, No explosion, just curtain close. One clean verse, one clean plot, Michael Johnson. Captain. Kill shot. Outro — shell casing drop sound Crunchy Captain: Target down. Michael Johnson: Next.

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