Yeah uptown's got its hustlers
The bowery got its bums
42nd 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 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"
Yeah well down in south Alabama come a country boy
I''mma lookin' for a man named Jim
Yeah I'm a pool shootin' boy, my name Willie McCoy
But down home they call me slim
Yeah I'm lookin' for the king of 42nd Street
Drivin' a drop top cadillac
Last week he took all my money
And it may sound funny
But I'm to get my money back
And everybody say Jack 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"
Well a hush fell over the pool room
Jimmy come boppin' in off of the street
And when the cuttin' were done
The only part that wasn't bloody
Was the soles of the big man's feet
Yeah he was cut in 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 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"
Yeah 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
Lyrics provided by LRCLIB
