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Uptown got it's hustlers The bowery got it's bums 42nd Street got Big Jim Walker He a pool-shootin' son of a gun Yeah, he 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 Well outta south Alabama came a country boy He say I'm lookin' for a man named Jim I am 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 He drivin' 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 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 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 were cut in 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 that old Lone Ranger And you don't mess around with Slim Yeah, big Jim got his hat Find out where it's at And it's not hustlin' people strange to you Even if you do got a two-piece custom-made pool cue Yeah 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 Hmm hmm hmm ... |
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