Saint-Denis [English translation]

I'd like to write some slam poetry for a great lady I know since I was a kid

I'd like to write for her who sees my old walking stick every day of the week

I'd like to write for an old woman in which I grew up

I'd like to write for this northern Paris suburb called Saint-Denis.

Take the RER D line and wander in the harsh streets of a city full of character

Take subway line 13 and have a bite at McDo or in the bistros of a city full of hot chicks and plain wetbacks

If you like to travel, take the tramway and go to the marketplace. In an hour you'll go through Algiers and Tangiers.

You'll see Yugos and Roms, and then I'll take you to Lisboa

And 2 steps away from New-Delhi and Kharashi (see, I reviewed my geography), I'll take you for some good Mafé in Bamako and Yamussukro

And if you prefer, we'll go right across the corner and have a pancake there where it smells like Quimper and it looks a bit like Finistère.

And then, going back through Tizi-uzu, we'll end up in the Antillas, there where big mamas are going "Pst, what are you girl doing here?"

Inside Saint-Denis market, your elbows better be sharp. If you don't like being jostled, you'll have to stay zen.

But no doubt you'll get your ears full of accents and your nose of smells.

After the market we'll go for a walk in the République street, the cheap shops sanctuary.

The favourite street of the cute well dressed Arab girls, with their neat high heels and discolored hairs.

In front of zouk shops I'll teach you how to dance. If we go to the post office, I'll teach you patience...

The République street leads to the basilica, where all kings of France are burried, as you surely know it! After geography, a small history lecture.

Behind this imposing building, I take you to the end of the alley, in a more friendly place: welcome to the cultural café.

There we will be able to chat, have a drink or play checkers. Some Friday evening, there are even Slam events.

If you wand a good meal for nothing, I know well all the slightly sticky good places.

Here we'll meet all the good-for-nothing, the jet-set of aristocrappies.

In the evenings, there's not much to do, not many open places.

Except the stadium movie theater where gangs gather: welcome to riffraff-land!

These ones dream about the day they will be able to say "I'm someone !" and know very well Kool Sheen is just Bruno Lopez.

It's not a bowl of cherries but it's a living city. There's always something going on, for me it's a treat.

I know well how it works, how it bends, there are always new people in town, and a lot of naughty boys,

I want to write a beautiful page [about the] city of a thousand faces, downtown Saint-Denis, my village.

I have 93200 reasons to let you know this town. And you have as many ways to discover all its attractions.

I'm more than fond of this damned city, even though I'd like to clobber the cell phone snatchers from the Caquet place.

Saint-Denis, unrivaled city, Saint-Denis my capital, Saint-Denis the unusual... Where you can find hallal sauerkraut even in combi stores!

Here we're proud to live in Saint-Denis, I hope I convinced you. And if you call me a Parisian, I'll ram my walking stick up your...

I'd like to write some slam poetry for a great lady I know since I was a kid

I'd like to write for her who sees my old walking stick every day of the week

I'd like to write for an old woman in which I grew up

I'd like to write for this northern Paris suburb called Saint-Denis.

• Artist:Grand Corps Malade
• Album:Midi 20