Don't Mess Around With Jim Lyrics - Jim Croce

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 

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