| Song | Forever |
| Artist | Celph Titled |
| Album | The Gatalog: A Collection of Chaos |
| (Intro: L-Fudge) | |
| Yo, You have now entered the realms of Rictor, boy, | |
| Celph Titled the Rubix Cuban, | |
| Complex Kimani of the master minds and L-Fudge | |
| Aka emcee guy pollo, Palla plumas in the house | |
| (Verse 1: Mr. Complex) | |
| Yo, kicking it for divine minds, divine rhymes | |
| Defy common space, mix New York with the A-T-L base | |
| I’ve been hard to trace, leave evidence of existence | |
| Play copy blocks with assistants assistance | |
| Snatching necks snaps, fresh raps veterans and wet backs | |
| Unbelievably fresh like wet naps, we set traps and set stacks | |
| And light some rhyme books on fire | |
| Master mind philosophy need to retire | |
| To a higher plane, leaving the name engraved | |
| Up in your hall of fame, keeping right at the train | |
| With the same Walkman since 93, see I be | |
| Holding it down for NYC, lively | |
| The upper west resident, superior intelligent | |
| Fresh like your breath after peppermint | |
| Heaven sent these emcees to ease the pains | |
| Until all of y’all feel like rap isn’t the same in game | |
| (Verse 2: Kimani Rodgers) | |
| I master the arts, ripping heads apart | |
| Literally, strip you of accessories and luxuries | |
| How real it could be, it’s what your introduced to | |
| And separated youth never wanted to relate it to | |
| The ones who produced you, dude | |
| Long gone, erased all evidence of even once | |
| Thinking you was a Don Juan | |
| Far from what you want is where you stand at | |
| And taken off the high pedestal | |
| What they want is where your rhymes at | |
| Promotion is what determines your fate | |
| And you know what’s ill? | |
| When it’s promoted right, wack kids learning the hate | |
| Not talking the science behind it | |
| Enables it to sneak up and surprise us | |
| Football coaches having to scan and advise us at any given time | |
| And still not influence your shit | |
| It’s what everybody want in one given rhyme | |
| Keep a separated mind in these times | |
| Or remain ignorant waiting for the sun to surface and be shine | |
| (Chorus: | |
| It goes hip-hop, hip-hop forever | |
| Hip-hop, hip-hop forever | |
| Say hip-hop, hip-hop forever | |
| Say Hip-hop, hip-hop forever | |
| Hip-hop, hip-hop forever | |
| Say Hip-hop, hip-hop forever | |
| Say Hip-hop, hip-hop forever | |
| Hip-hop, hip-hop forever | |
| Verse 3: Mr. Ricter | |
| What if I took hell’s concept and combined it | |
| With Southern dialect, would it be too complex | |
| For minds to master, ten years after | |
| Kids like damn he flipped names | |
| 2009 they still lame, confused, scatterbrained | |
| Rappers talking nonsensical syntax | |
| Maybe slice open they back and snip wires | |
| Replace blood with gasoline and set fire | |
| Bugged out, even my tongue gets slugged out | |
| Projectile thrower, morons excel slower | |
| Proceeded by a Nazi, you Godly? Don’t think so | |
| (Verse 4: L-Fudge) | |
| Yo, yo, I pull up on police when I’m in hot pursuit of my dreams | |
| License and registration, representation come from Queens | |
| I grab the might be like tonight it’s only right, | |
| The only right to remain silent, but I got a violent brain | |
| But I restrain from crime, cause every rhyme is closer | |
| I’m too nice to murder and vice versa | |
| Enhance substantial sing-a-longs and time to curse the | |
| You could think of the worst thing to say | |
| But what’s worse is that you’re this half definition of the word rap | |
| You busting mad shots and here’s your bullets back | |
| Ay, yo, observe the radio with mines close to snow | |
| It’s hard for me to maintain the prophesying in my flow | |
| (Verse 5: Ceph Titled) | |
| We interrupt this scheduled broadcast | |
| To bring you the latest from | |
| Celph Titled live and direct, the Floridian architect | |
| 8-1-3 residency got you on the safety precaution tip | |
| Placing grenades in backpacks, making sure the pin | |
| Get lost quick (What?) emcees is simple minded | |
| Finally righting rhymes in crayons | |
| You want to talk to that kid I battled? Alright, let’s have a séance | |
| Ripped your favorite idol to shreds like chemotherapy red heads | |
| You got a lot at stake? I’ll spare ribs and break legs instead | |
| Spitting grammar so any worser place get spray with gamma rays | |
| Energy, I’m invisible, got me rocking shoes at funerals | |
| I’m steaming out my nostrils, leading headphone apostles | |
| Believe me when you see these five emcees rip mics colossal | |
| El tremendo Cubano gleaming in the moonlight | |
| One half of Equilibrium, one love to all my aolites | |
| (Chorus) | |
| It goes hip-hop, hip-hop forever | |
| Hip-hop, hip-hop forever | |
| Say hip-hop, hip-hop forever | |
| Say Hip-hop, hip-hop forever | |
| Hip-hop, hip-hop forever | |
| Say Hip-hop, hip-hop forever | |
| Say Hip-hop, hip-hop forever | |
| Hip-hop, hip-hop forever |
| Intro: LFudge | |
| Yo, You have now entered the realms of Rictor, boy, | |
| Celph Titled the Rubix Cuban, | |
| Complex Kimani of the master minds and LFudge | |
| Aka emcee guy pollo, Palla plumas in the house | |
| Verse 1: Mr. Complex | |
| Yo, kicking it for divine minds, divine rhymes | |
| Defy common space, mix New York with the ATL base | |
| I' ve been hard to trace, leave evidence of existence | |
| Play copy blocks with assistants assistance | |
| Snatching necks snaps, fresh raps veterans and wet backs | |
| Unbelievably fresh like wet naps, we set traps and set stacks | |
| And light some rhyme books on fire | |
| Master mind philosophy need to retire | |
| To a higher plane, leaving the name engraved | |
| Up in your hall of fame, keeping right at the train | |
| With the same Walkman since 93, see I be | |
| Holding it down for NYC, lively | |
| The upper west resident, superior intelligent | |
| Fresh like your breath after peppermint | |
| Heaven sent these emcees to ease the pains | |
| Until all of y' all feel like rap isn' t the same in game | |
| Verse 2: Kimani Rodgers | |
| I master the arts, ripping heads apart | |
| Literally, strip you of accessories and luxuries | |
| How real it could be, it' s what your introduced to | |
| And separated youth never wanted to relate it to | |
| The ones who produced you, dude | |
| Long gone, erased all evidence of even once | |
| Thinking you was a Don Juan | |
| Far from what you want is where you stand at | |
| And taken off the high pedestal | |
| What they want is where your rhymes at | |
| Promotion is what determines your fate | |
| And you know what' s ill? | |
| When it' s promoted right, wack kids learning the hate | |
| Not talking the science behind it | |
| Enables it to sneak up and surprise us | |
| Football coaches having to scan and advise us at any given time | |
| And still not influence your shit | |
| It' s what everybody want in one given rhyme | |
| Keep a separated mind in these times | |
| Or remain ignorant waiting for the sun to surface and be shine | |
| Chorus: | |
| It goes hiphop, hiphop forever | |
| Hiphop, hiphop forever | |
| Say hiphop, hiphop forever | |
| Say Hiphop, hiphop forever | |
| Hiphop, hiphop forever | |
| Say Hiphop, hiphop forever | |
| Say Hiphop, hiphop forever | |
| Hiphop, hiphop forever | |
| Verse 3: Mr. Ricter | |
| What if I took hell' s concept and combined it | |
| With Southern dialect, would it be too complex | |
| For minds to master, ten years after | |
| Kids like damn he flipped names | |
| 2009 they still lame, confused, scatterbrained | |
| Rappers talking nonsensical syntax | |
| Maybe slice open they back and snip wires | |
| Replace blood with gasoline and set fire | |
| Bugged out, even my tongue gets slugged out | |
| Projectile thrower, morons excel slower | |
| Proceeded by a Nazi, you Godly? Don' t think so | |
| Verse 4: LFudge | |
| Yo, yo, I pull up on police when I' m in hot pursuit of my dreams | |
| License and registration, representation come from Queens | |
| I grab the might be like tonight it' s only right, | |
| The only right to remain silent, but I got a violent brain | |
| But I restrain from crime, cause every rhyme is closer | |
| I' m too nice to murder and vice versa | |
| Enhance substantial singalongs and time to curse the | |
| You could think of the worst thing to say | |
| But what' s worse is that you' re this half definition of the word rap | |
| You busting mad shots and here' s your bullets back | |
| Ay, yo, observe the radio with mines close to snow | |
| It' s hard for me to maintain the prophesying in my flow | |
| Verse 5: Ceph Titled | |
| We interrupt this scheduled broadcast | |
| To bring you the latest from | |
| Celph Titled live and direct, the Floridian architect | |
| 813 residency got you on the safety precaution tip | |
| Placing grenades in backpacks, making sure the pin | |
| Get lost quick What? emcees is simple minded | |
| Finally righting rhymes in crayons | |
| You want to talk to that kid I battled? Alright, let' s have a sé ance | |
| Ripped your favorite idol to shreds like chemotherapy red heads | |
| You got a lot at stake? I' ll spare ribs and break legs instead | |
| Spitting grammar so any worser place get spray with gamma rays | |
| Energy, I' m invisible, got me rocking shoes at funerals | |
| I' m steaming out my nostrils, leading headphone apostles | |
| Believe me when you see these five emcees rip mics colossal | |
| El tremendo Cubano gleaming in the moonlight | |
| One half of Equilibrium, one love to all my aolites | |
| Chorus | |
| It goes hiphop, hiphop forever | |
| Hiphop, hiphop forever | |
| Say hiphop, hiphop forever | |
| Say Hiphop, hiphop forever | |
| Hiphop, hiphop forever | |
| Say Hiphop, hiphop forever | |
| Say Hiphop, hiphop forever | |
| Hiphop, hiphop forever |