Jim Croce - You Don't Mess Around with Jim | Текст песни

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• Jim Croce
• You Don't Mess Around with Jim

Uptown got its hustlers
Bowery got its bums
And 42nd street got big Jim Walker
He's a pool shootin' son of a gun
Ya, he's big and dumb as a man can come
But 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

{Refrain}
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, da do da do...

Well out of south Alabama come a country boy
He said, "I'm looking for a man named Jim
I am a pool shootin' boy, my name is Willie McCoy
But down home they call me Slim
And I'm looking for the king of 42nd street
He's driving a drop top Cadillac
Last week he took all my money, and it may sound funny
But I've come to get my money back," and everybody said, Jack, don't you know

{Refrain}

Well a hush fell over the pool room
When Jim he come boppin' 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
And 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

{As refrain}
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, da, do, da, do...
{Repeat}

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

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