(feat. Def Jef, Left Eye, Paul Rodriguez, Jerky Boys)



(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!