[Verse 1: congolese lingala-accented male MC, proud and strutting over the spiraling soukous guitar] Sixth floor, no elevator, and the room is nine by nine Got a hot plate, got a mattress, and a closet like a shrine Pink suit, double-breasted, every button made of horn Crocodile shoes I been shinin' since the day that I was born Tie the color of a mango and a pocket square to match Got a cane with a silver top that I won't let nobody snatch Neighbors call me Le Pli, you could slice bread on my crease I eat rice four nights a week, and my tailor eats a feast Every Sunday on the boulevard, the whole block stops to see Little kids in Chateau Rouge, they practice walkin' just like me [Hook: congolese MC, chanted proud, the guitar answering every line] I ain't pressed, I'm pressed, every crease in line Wallet might be empty, but the pleats are lookin' fine Steam it, starch it, every fold a blade I ain't pressed, I'm pressed, and I ain't afraid [Verse 2: congolese MC, quicker, the bass rolling under him] Then the warehouse closed in June, and the rent fell way behind First a letter, then a phone call, then a paper from the court, signed Man downstairs said "Sell the suit, Le Pli, it's worth a month or two" I said "Sell the only name I got? I'd sooner sell my shoes" So I starched it every mornin' and I kept it on the hook Walked the boulevard on Sunday, let the whole street take a look Never told a soul about the paper taped up on the door Never let 'em see me sweat, that's what the handkerchief is for [Hook] I ain't pressed, I'm pressed, every crease in line Wallet might be empty, but the pleats are lookin' fine Steam it, starch it, every fold a blade I ain't pressed, I'm pressed, and I ain't afraid [Guitar Spiral: the soukous lead guitar spins into a fast spiraling loop for four bars while congolese MC struts and turns, then the kick drives back] Step and turn, show 'em the linin' Step and turn, the silk is shinin' [Verse 3: congolese MC, slow and grand, then hard on the kick] Thursday, nine a.m., the bailiff huffin' up six flights Two police, a locksmith, all of 'em ready for a fight Knocked, and I said "Entrez." Door was open, bags were packed I was standin' in the pink suit with the cane and with the hat Mango tie, the crocodiles, a crease so sharp it hurt Bailiff looked me up and down and fixed the collar on his shirt Walked down six floors slow, the whole building at the rail Aunties clappin', kids were cheerin' like I'm walkin' out of jail One suitcase on the boulevard, head up, cane in hand They can take the room, but they can't take the way I stand [Hook] I ain't pressed, I'm pressed, every crease in line Wallet might be empty, but the pleats are lookin' fine Steam it, starch it, every fold a blade I ain't pressed, I'm pressed, and I ain't afraid [End]
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