You Don’t Mess Around With Jim

Lyrics

(One, two One, two, three, four) 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 Jim Well, uptown got its hustlers the Bowery got its bums And forty second street got big Jim Walker He's a pool-shootin' 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 the old Lone Ranger And you don't mess around with Jim Well, outta south Alabama come a country boy He said I'm lookin' for a man named Jim Well, I'm a pool shootin' boy My name is Willie McCoy But down home They call me Slim Yeah I'm looking for the king of Forty Second 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 don't you know You don't 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 Jim Well, a hush fell over the pool room Jimmy come bopping in off of 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 were cut in bout a hundred places And he were shot in a couple more And you better believe They sung a different kind of story when big Jim hit the floor 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 the old Lone Ranger And you don't mess around with Slim No, no, no You don't tug on Superman's cape... No, no, no You don't tug on Superman's cape...