It’s Vishnu the true blue, half of this rap crew
That use skills to pay dues and break through
A no frills dude who builds ill grooves
That will thrill you and make you make moves
Vishnu the true blue, half of this rap crew
That use skills to pay dues and break through
A no frills dude who builds ill grooves
That will thrill you until you say WOO!

Before my ANTI-GAME debut, hey I prayed through
The mic to the rap gods that I stay true
To the art, to the science and ANTI-GAME too
May we always stay friends, amen, begin phase two
Pave new pathways that will amaze you
Blaze through and see drivel shrivel like sautéed shrooms
Leave cliché crews snafued in dismayed moods
Parlez-vous hip hop? Then bienvenue
Welcome to Rue Vishnu lame tunes will need new
Brake shoes upon rendezvous with Vishnu who
Aims to put an end to yay-hoo’s inane spews
So stay tuned for another round of his strange brews
No day too askew they can’t elate you
Lay blooms on gray tombs reanimate you so make room
For Vishnu! Say who? Forgot my name way too soon
One more time to remind you this is take two

Call me Leftwrite
I live a blessed life. A beautiful daughter
I got the best wife. I got peace of mind, so I rest nights
Inside this chest, pride. This is not a test flight
Necks might snap when I bless mics. Fresh, right?
Am I hype enough to excite? Yes. You guessed right
Leftwrite. Flesh white, but less like the next guys
On websites rife with unsalted French fries
But, braggadocio doesn’t suit me
Just move me with an uber-loopy beat and keep it super groovy
I love the Super Troopers movie
I never shot an Uzi
But I do enjoy a Gentleman Jack in a Jacuzzi
I grill a steak juicy. I’m laidback, loosey-goosey
I hold on loosely to the pen and tattoo me to the loose leaf
Truth speaks when I think with ink
Mucho prose flows when the hose unkinks
So distinct, crisp and refreshing like soda drinks
My sound slithers sideways like a cobra slinks
Again, it’s Leftwrite. Def tight, deft rhymes
Handwritten and text typed
Plus a voice that does more than just check mics

Call me Leftwrite, Leftwrite
Of Anti-Game we hit your brain like a lead pipe
Call me Leftwrite, Leftwrite
These rhymes are falling of the vine, man, they’re red ripe
Call me Leftwrite, Leftwrite
Of Anti-Game we hit your brain like a lead pipe
My name is Leftwrite, Leftwrite
We on the go, we know nothing ‘bout that redlight