R.C.W. Productions

corporate cinematic trap, grandiose orchestral hip-hop

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[Verse 1 – 8 bars]
It’s the R.C.W., trouble for the double-u, subtle view?
Never, I’m severing the level you are tethered to
We run the production, deduction, instruction, construction
Of lyrical weapons of mass and total destruction
It’s not a label, it’s an army, a navy, a cavalry
Defying the gravity, depravity? No, it’s a strategy
To capitalize on the eyes and the lies of the guys
Who try to disguise that they don’t have the prize or the size.

[Pre-Hook – 4 bars]
Quality control is the protocol
We standing tall, we never fall
If you want the best, give us a call
We own the building, we own the hall.

[Hook – 8 bars]
R.C.W. Productions, the stamp of the elite
The only competition that we have is the concrete
We built it from the ground up, sound up, round up
Every single hater that we managed to found up
It’s R.C.W. baby, the logo is gold
The story of the century that’s waiting to unfold
We turn the pressure into diamonds, the coal into fire
R.C.W. Productions taking you higher.

[Verse 2 – 8 bars]
Executive decision, precision, a vision, a mission
To put the competition in a critical condition
We sign the dotted line with the blood and the sweat and the tears
We conquering the doubts and erasing the fears of the years
The studio is sacred, we bake it, we make it, we take it
You fake it, we break it, you shake it, we stick it and stake it
Standard operating procedure is lethal injection
Of perfection, correction, and total direction connection.

[Verse 3 – 8 bars]
Start with the beat, keep it street, keep it neat, keep it heat
Delete the defeat, take a seat, never ever retreat
KB on the mic is the spike in the price of the stock
We got the entire industry placed in a lyrical lock
Distribution is global, the motive is noble? Not really.
The motive is dominating the city, not Philly, but really
Like the world, like the planet, we plan it, we scan it, we man it
We ran it, we fan it, we stick to the granite, goddamn it.

[Verse 4 – 8 bars]
We got the technicians, musicians, the magicians, positions
Of power and hour after hour of pure ambitions
Shadow Linx in the back with the stack and the knack for the black
Bigg Boss on the track with the attack and the lack of the slack
The Five-Piece is the unit, you ruin it? No, you can't tune it
We flew in it, grew in it, knew in it, stick like a glue in it
This is the brand, understand? It’s the line in the sand
The most dangerous label in the entire land.

[Verse 5 – 8 bars]
Profit margins are large and I’m sarge in the charge of the barge
I’m living it large in the garage with the mirage? No camouflage.
We operate in the shadows, the meadows, the ghettos, the stilettos
The falsettos of fellows who bellow and turn into Jell-O
It’s a corporate takeover, makeover, break-over, rake-over
The coals of the souls of the trolls on a layover
Signature sound is bound to astound and resound
R.C.W. king is effectively crowned.

[Bridge – 12 bars]
(Music drops to a minimal, menacing pulse)
We don’t ask for permission.
We don’t ask for forgiveness.
We just handle the business.
Can I get a witness?
(Silence)
I didn't think so.
We are the judge, the jury, the executioner too.
The blueprint, the fingerprint, the residue.
Every track is a contract, binding for life.
We bring the gun to the fight, you bring the knife.
Signed, sealed, delivered, it’s done.
R.C.W. Production, the number one.

[Outro – 4 bars]
R.C.W.
Remember the name.
Or get run over by the machine.
KB. Out.
(Sound of a stamp hitting paper: THUD)

4877/7500

[Intro – 4 bars] (Sound of a heavy steel vault door slamming shut and locking. Deep bass hum.) Welcome to the headquarters. Check your ego at the door. If it ain't R.C.W... it’s irrelevant. Production. Power. Prestige. [Verse 1 – 8 bars] It’s the R.C.W., trouble for the double-u, subtle view? Never, I’m severing the level you are tethered to We run the production, deduction, instruction, construction Of lyrical weapons of mass and total destruction It’s not a label, it’s an army, a navy, a cavalry Defying the gravity, depravity? No, it’s a strategy To capitalize on the eyes and the lies of the guys Who try to disguise that they don’t have the prize or the size. [Pre-Hook – 4 bars] Quality control is the protocol We standing tall, we never fall If you want the best, give us a call We own the building, we own the hall. [Hook – 8 bars] R.C.W. Productions, the stamp of the elite The only competition that we have is the concrete We built it from the ground up, sound up, round up Every single hater that we managed to found up It’s R.C.W. baby, the logo is gold The story of the century that’s waiting to unfold We turn the pressure into diamonds, the coal into fire R.C.W. Productions taking you higher. [Verse 2 – 8 bars] Executive decision, precision, a vision, a mission To put the competition in a critical condition We sign the dotted line with the blood and the sweat and the tears We conquering the doubts and erasing the fears of the years The studio is sacred, we bake it, we make it, we take it You fake it, we break it, you shake it, we stick it and stake it Standard operating procedure is lethal injection Of perfection, correction, and total direction connection. [Verse 3 – 8 bars] Start with the beat, keep it street, keep it neat, keep it heat Delete the defeat, take a seat, never ever retreat KB on the mic is the spike in the price of the stock We got the entire industry placed in a lyrical lock Distribution is global, the motive is noble? Not really. The motive is dominating the city, not Philly, but really Like the world, like the planet, we plan it, we scan it, we man it We ran it, we fan it, we stick to the granite, goddamn it. [Hook – 8 bars] R.C.W. Productions, the stamp of the elite The only competition that we have is the concrete We built it from the ground up, sound up, round up Every single hater that we managed to found up It’s R.C.W. baby, the logo is gold The story of the century that’s waiting to unfold We turn the pressure into diamonds, the coal into fire R.C.W. Productions taking you higher. [Verse 4 – 8 bars] We got the technicians, musicians, the magicians, positions Of power and hour after hour of pure ambitions Shadow Linx in the back with the stack and the knack for the black Bigg Boss on the track with the attack and the lack of the slack The Five-Piece is the unit, you ruin it? No, you can't tune it We flew in it, grew in it, knew in it, stick like a glue in it This is the brand, understand? It’s the line in the sand The most dangerous label in the entire land. [Verse 5 – 8 bars] Profit margins are large and I’m sarge in the charge of the barge I’m living it large in the garage with the mirage? No camouflage. We operate in the shadows, the meadows, the ghettos, the stilettos The falsettos of fellows who bellow and turn into Jell-O It’s a corporate takeover, makeover, break-over, rake-over The coals of the souls of the trolls on a layover Signature sound is bound to astound and resound R.C.W. king is effectively crowned. [Hook – 8 bars] R.C.W. Productions, the stamp of the elite The only competition that we have is the concrete We built it from the ground up, sound up, round up Every single hater that we managed to found up It’s R.C.W. baby, the logo is gold The story of the century that’s waiting to unfold We turn the pressure into diamonds, the coal into fire R.C.W. Productions taking you higher. [Bridge – 12 bars] (Music drops to a minimal, menacing pulse) We don’t ask for permission. We don’t ask for forgiveness. We just handle the business. Can I get a witness? (Silence) I didn't think so. We are the judge, the jury, the executioner too. The blueprint, the fingerprint, the residue. Every track is a contract, binding for life. We bring the gun to the fight, you bring the knife. Signed, sealed, delivered, it’s done. R.C.W. Production, the number one. [Hook – 8 bars] R.C.W. Productions, the stamp of the elite The only competition that we have is the concrete We built it from the ground up, sound up, round up Every single hater that we managed to found up It’s R.C.W. baby, the logo is gold The story of the century that’s waiting to unfold We turn the pressure into diamonds, the coal into fire R.C.W. Productions taking you higher. [Outro – 4 bars] R.C.W. Remember the name. Or get run over by the machine. KB. Out. (Sound of a stamp hitting paper: THUD)

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