Don't Mess Around With Jim

Uptown got its hustlers
The Bowery got its bums
42nd Street got Big Jim Walker
He's a pool-shooting son of a gun

Yeah, he's big and dumb as a man can come
But he's stronger than a country hoss
And when the bad folks all get together at night
You know they all call Big Jim Boss just because

And they say
You don't tug on Superman's cape
You don't spit into the wind
You don't pull the mask off that old Lone Ranger
And you don't mess around with Jim

(Ba-doo-da-doo-dum, dee-dee-dee-dee-un-dee)

Well, outta South Alabama came a country boy
He said: I'm looking for a man named Jim
I am a pool-shooting boy, my name's Willie McCoy
But down home, they call me Slim

Yeah, I'm looking for the king of 42nd Street
He driving a drop-top Cadillac
Last week, he took all my money
And it may sound funny, but I come to get my money back

And everybody say: Jack, uh, don't you know?
You don't tug on Superman's cape
You don't spit into the wind
You don't pull the mask off that old Lone Ranger
And you don't mess around with Jim

(Ba-doo-da-doo-dum, dee-dee-dee-dee-un-dee)

Well, a hush fell over the pool room
Jimmy come bopping in off the street
And when the cutting were done
The only part that wasn't bloody
Was the soles of the big man's feet

Yeah, he was cut in 'bout a hundred places
And he was shot in a couple more
And you better believe they sung a different kind of story
When Big Jim hit the floor, oh, oh, oh

Now they say: You don't tug on Superman's cape
You don't spit into the wind
You don't pull the mask off that old lone ranger
And you don't mess around with Slim

(Hum, hum, hum, hum, hum, hum, hum)

Yeah, Big Jim got his hat
Find out where it's at
And it's not hustling people strange to you
Even if you do got a two-piece custom-made pool cue

Yeah, you don't tug on Superman's cape
You don't spit into the wind
You don't pull the mask off the old Lone Ranger
And you don't mess around with Slim