Artist: Salt-N-Pepa, Def Jef, Left Eye, Paul Rodriguez, Jerky Boys
Album: The Songs of 'West Side Story'
Song: Gee, Officer Krupke
[Excuse me, Mister Officer, you think we're bad, huh?
You wanna clean up the streets, huh?
Well you better put society in handcuffs
Ha-ha! You got a hard job!]
Music by Bernstein, lyrics by Sondheim
I'm talking 'bout 'West Side Story', it's before my time
Police sweat me like the Sharks and the Jets
Because I do what I does so they wanna get me
If you let me, I'll explain the game
Clear my name and show you ain't a damn thing changed
So don't criticise the way that I parlay
This ain't Broadway, we learned it the hard way
Dear, kindly Sgt. Krupke you gotta understand
It's just our bringing up-key that gets us out of hand
Our mothers all are junkies, our fathers all are drunks
Golly-moses, naturally we're punks
Gee, Officer Krupke we're very upset
We never had the love that every child ought to get
We ain't no delinquents, we're misunderstood
Deep down inside us there is good (there is good)
There is good, there is good, there is untapped good
Look inside, the worst of us is good
You see Officer Krupke, you gotta have some compassion
You know you're always harrassing me
But what you don't understand is I come from a broken home
My mama don't care about me, my daddy don't care about me
And you're always gettin' on my case
It ain't me, homeboy, it's society
Dear, kindly Judge, Your Honor, my parents treat me rough
With all their marijuana they won't give me a puff!
They didn't wanna have me but somehow I was had
Leapin' lizards, that's why I'm so bad
Right, Officer Krupke, you're really a square
This boy don't need a judge he needs an analyst here
It's just a neurosys that oughta be curbed
He's psychologically disturbed (he's disturbed)
We're disturbed, we're disturbed, we're the most disturbed
We're psychologically disturbed
We're out of our minds, you know what I'm sayin?
Yeah, because we got problems deep down inside
I ain't got no analyst to go to
And sit down on the couch to find out why I'm disturbed
I know why I'm disturbed, and you know what?
I don't care cuz it's just like that
And that's just how it is, you know what I'm sayin'?
That's the way it is: crazy!
My father is a bastard, my mom's an S.O.B
My grandpa's always plastered, my grandma pushes tea
My sister wears a mustache, my brother wears a dress
Goodness gracious, that's why I'm a mess
Officer Krupke, you're really a slob
This boy don't need a doctor just a good honest job
Society played him a terrible trick
Socialogically he's sick (we are sick)
We are sick, we are sick, we are sick, sick, sick
Like we're socialogically sick
[In other words, this is what happens when cousins marry
We are panero heads, in-bred
Hey, we're like Chicano Forest Gump]
Kindly social worker, they say go earn a buck
Like be a soda jerker which means like be a schmuck
It's not I'm anti-social, I'm only anti-work
Gloriaski, now that's why I'm a jerk
Officer Krupke, you done it again
This boy don't need a job he needs a year in the pen
It ain't just a question of misunderstood
Deep, down inside he ain't no damn good
We're no good, we're no good, we're no earthly good
Like a pest, a bug ain't no damn good
The trouble is he's crazy, the trouble is he drinks
The problem is he's lazy, the trouble is he stinks
The trouble is he's growin', the trouble is he's grown
Krupke, we've got troubles of our own
Gee, Officer Krupke, we're down on our knees
Cuz no one wants a fella with a social disease
Gee, Officer Krupke, what are we to do?
Gee, Officer Krupke, krup you!
