You Dont Mess Around With Jim lyrics

Artist  : Jim Croce 
Song : You Dont Mess Around With Jim
 


Uptown's got its hustlers
The Bowry's got its
bums
Forty-second street's got Big Jim
Walker
He's a pool-shootin' son of a
gun
Well 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 ...)
(They say
...)
CHORUS:
You don't tug on Superman's
cape
You don't spit into the wind
You don't
pull the mask of the old Lone Ranger
And you
don't mess around with Jim
(Ba-doo-da-doo-doo
doo-doo-doo-doo doot)
Well out of South
Alabama come a country boy
He said I'm lookin'
for a man named Jim
I am a pool-shootin' boy,
my name is Willie McCoy
But back home they
call me Slim
He said I'm lookin' for the king
of forty-second street
He's drivin' a drop-top
Cadillac
And 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 that...)
(CHORUS)
Well a hush fell
over the pool room
When Jimmy come boppin' in
off the street
And when the cuttin' was done,
the only part that wasn't bloody
Was the soles
of the big man's feet
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
(And now they say)
You don't tug on
Superman's cape
You don't spit into the
wind
You don't pull the mask of the old Lone
Ranger
And you don't mess around with Slim