Americana - Ruslan

This is my Americana

My version of honour, the feeling of you and the sonogram of your first

offspring

The offering of a man that’s tired of being a genre

My marriage, it won’t keep me high but in order

But to arrive as one routed 'cuz the son who rolled up

The sedative is a downer

Let it live, Dalai Lama

The medicine is alterative like Russians in a sauna

My Americana, preventative to the drowner, put on this life jacket and beat

them with the drama

Be done with the commas, ever made a point but appointments are for trauma

These aren’t political statements, the venom is ancient

The serpents jaw drops on the pavement

So I don’t have a soft spot for active passive off top and then trying to brush

over it like old men with their bald spots

So look, I got to hustle 8 to 4, they prolly think the first 4 to 8 of these

bars are really just metaphors about getting stoned and wasted and playing with

confetti more

I’m so cold with these raps I might as well be running a Yeti store

Oh you liked that, well there’s plenty more,

And any rapper can get it like any order

I’m the man of the house and they like Betty Ford, and I ain’t got no time to

be distracted and go on exploring

So what is the origin of oral sin

I’m redeeming the time and getting to know the soul within

It’s all a process

I need to be constant

Only so many options

To roll again

I’m home again

I’m in my zone again

Still believing the best is yet to come, I guess I got to roll up thin,

outside not houseless

My money where my mouth is

You been out with it 'cuz you were really about this

I said it

My Americana

My Americana, uh

This is my Americana

My Americana

My Americana, my version of the American dream, don’t believe what I hear,

and only half of what I see

That’s the spectacular sceptic in me

Living Vacula will only change if Dracula decides to empty it, envy running

through veins of conceit, I’m dead lost

Blood that was shed makes me look up to a red cross

That’s my oxygen, they keep mocking Him

But no one wants to walk a mile in those moccasins

I’m on and off again

I’m compromised, I’m confident the realer me is dominant over any façade that

is offered when defence mechanisms go off again

You’re gonna have to pardon him

I can’t help that in my heart our hearts are still artisan

I can’t help that when it comes down to it, I get the job done

I can’t help that I believe the only way to God is through God’s Son

I can’t help it if I lose some cool points of view points, I’m cool with it,

the new joint I’m fooling with is true joy, ha

My Americana

My Americana

My Americana, uh

This is my Americana

My Americana

This is my Americana