Salt-n-Pepa, Left Eye, etc.
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(appears on The Songs Of West Side Story)
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Excuse me Mr. Officer
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You think we're bad, huh?
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You wanna clean up the streets, huh?
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Well you better put society in handcuffs
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Ha ha, you got a hard job
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Music by Bernstein
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Lyrics by Sondheim
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I'm talkin' 'bout West Side Story
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It's before my time
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Police sweat me like the Sharks & the Jets
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Because I do what I does
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So they wanna hit me
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If you let me
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I'll explain the game
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Clear my name
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And show you ain't a damn thing changed
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So don't criticize the way that I ball hey
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This ain't Broadway
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We learned it the hard way
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Dear kindly Sergeant Krupke
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You gotta understand
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It's just our bringin' upke
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That gets us out of hand
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Our mothers all are junkies
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Our fathers all are drunks
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Golly Moses, naturally we're punks
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Gee, Officer Krupke
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We're very upset
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We never had the love
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That every child oughta get
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We ain't no deliquents
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We're misunderstood
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Deep down inside us there is good
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There is good!
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There is good, there is good
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There is untapped good
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Like inside, the worst of us is good
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You see, Officer Krupkee
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You gotta have some compassion
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You know, you always harrassin' me
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But what you don't understand is
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I come from a broken home
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My momma don't care about me
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My daddy don't care about me
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And you always gettin' on my case
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It ain't me homeboy
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It's society
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Dear kindly Judge, your Honour
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My parents treat me rough
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With all their marijuana
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They won't give me a puff
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They didn't wanna have me
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But somehow I was had
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Leapin' lizards, that's why I'm so bad
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Right! Officer Krupke
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You're really a square
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This boy don't need a judge
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He needs an analyst's care
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It's just his neurosis
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That oughta be curbed
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He's psychologically disturbed
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He's disturbed!
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We're disturbed, we're disturbed
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We're the most disturbed
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Like we're psychologically disturbed
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We out of our minds you know what I'm sayin'
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Yeah, because we got problems
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Deep down inside
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I ain't got no analystic junk heap
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And sit down on the couch
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Then find out why I'm disturbed
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I know why I'm disturbed
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And you know what
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I don't care
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Cuz it's just like that
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And that's just how it is
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You know what I'm sayin'
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That's the way it is
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Crazy
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Father is a bastard
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My mom's an S-O-B
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My grandpa's always plastered
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My gramma pushes tea
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My sister wears a moustache
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My brother wears a dress
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Goodness gracious, that's why I'm a mess
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Officer Krupkee you're really a slob
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This boy don't need a doctor
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Just a good honest job
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Society played him a terrible trick
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And socialogically he's sick
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We are sick!
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We are sick, we are sick
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We are sick sick sick
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Like we're sociologically sick
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In other words
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This is what happens when cousins marry
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We are pendejo heads, inbred
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Hey we're like Chicano Forrest Gump's
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Dear kindly social worker
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They say go earn a buck
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Like be a soda jerker
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Which means like be a schmuck
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It's not I'm antisocial
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I'm only antiwork
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Glory Osky, now that's why I'm a jerk
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Officer Krupkee ya done it again
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This boy don't need a doc
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He needs a year in the pen
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It ain't just a question of misunderstood
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Deep down inside, he ain't no damn good
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I'm no good!
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We're no good, we're no good
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We're no earthly good
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Like the best of us is no damn good
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The trouble is he's crazy
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The trouble is he drinks
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The problem is he's lazy
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The trouble is he stinks
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The trouble is he's growin'
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The trouble is he's grown
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Krupkee we've got troubles of our own
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Gee, Officer Krupkee
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We're down on our knees
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Cuz no one wants a fella
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With a social disease
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Gee, Officer Krupkee
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What are we to do
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Gee, Officer Krupkee
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Krup you!
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Gee, Officer Krupkee
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TLC |