Salt-N-Pepa - Gee, Officer Krupke lyric

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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



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



I'm disturbed!



We're disturbed, we're disturbed

We're the most disturbed

Like we're psychologically disturbed



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



I am 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 Gumps



Dear kindly social worker

They say go earn a buck

Like be a soda jerker

Which means like be a shmuck

It's not I'm antisocial

I'm only antiwork

Glory Osky, now that's why I'm a jerk

Officer Krupkee ya've 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's no 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 lazy

The trouble is he drinks

The problem is he's crazy

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

'cause no one wants a fella

With a social disease

Gee, Officer Krupkee

What are we to do

Gee, Officer Krupkee

Krup you!

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