 |
| TLC Miscellaneous Gee, Officer Krupkee Salt-n-Pepa, Left Eye, etc. (appears on The Songs Of West Side Story) Excuse me Mr. 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 talkin' 'bout West Side Story It's before my time Police sweat me like the Sharks & the Jets Because I do what I does So they wanna hit 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 criticize the way that I ball hey This ain't Broadway We learned it the hard way Dear kindly Sergeant Krupke You gotta understand It's just our bringin' upke 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 oughta get We ain't no deliquents We're misunderstood Deep down inside us there is good There is good! There is good, there is good There is untapped good Like inside, the worst of us is good You see, Officer Krupkee You gotta have some compassion You know, you always harrassin' me But what you don't understand is I come from a broken home My momma don't care about me My daddy don't care about me And you always gettin' on my case It ain't me homeboy It's society Dear kindly Judge, your Honour 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's care It's just his neurosis That oughta be curbed He's psychologically disturbed He's disturbed! We're disturbed, we're disturbed We're the most disturbed Like we're psychologically disturbed We out of our minds you know what I'm sayin' Yeah, because we got problems Deep down inside I ain't got no analystic junk heap And sit down on the couch Then 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 Father is a bastard My mom's an S-O-B My grandpa's always plastered My gramma pushes tea My sister wears a moustache My brother wears a dress Goodness gracious, that's why I'm a mess Officer Krupkee you're really a slob This boy don't need a doctor Just a good honest job Society played him a terrible trick And socialogically he's sick We are sick! We are sick, we are sick We are sick sick sick Like we're sociologically sick In other words This is what happens when cousins marry We are pendejo heads, inbred Hey we're like Chicano Forrest Gump's Dear 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 antisocial I'm only antiwork Glory Osky, now that's why I'm a jerk Officer Krupkee ya done it again This boy don't need a doc He needs a year in the pen It ain't just a question of misunderstood Deep down inside, he ain't no damn good I'm no good! We're no good, we're no good We're no earthly good Like the best of us is 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 Krupkee we've got troubles of our own Gee, Officer Krupkee We're down on our knees Cuz no one wants a fella With a social disease Gee, Officer Krupkee What are we to do Gee, Officer Krupkee Krup you! |
Videos
|
Add
All lyrics are property and copyright of their owners. All lyrics provided for educational purposes only.
Copyright © 2007-2009 LyricWorld.com, LoiNhac.com
© 2009 lyricworld.com, loinhac.com are two of a family of companies in the LmVN Group.