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 compa**ion You know you're always harra**ing 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 an*lyst 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 an*lyst 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 ba*tard, 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!