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You dont mess around with jim

Song Author Jim Croce Submitted by: Anonymous
Up[G]town got it's hustlers, The bowery got it's bums,

42nd Street got Big Jim Walker,

He's a pool-shootin' son of a gun,
Yeah, he b[C]ig and dumb as a man can come,

But he stronger than a country hoss,
And when the b[D7]ad folks all get to[C]gether at night,
You know they a[D7]ll call big Jim "[C]Boss", just be[G]cause.

And they say.

You don't t[C]ug on Superman's c[G]ape, You don't s[C]pit into the w[G]ind,
You don't p[C]ull the mask off that old Lone Ranger,
And you do[D7]n't mess around with J[G]im. [D7]    


Well ou[G]tta 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 lo[C]okin' for the king of 42nd Street,

He drivin' a drop top Cadillac,
Last w[D7]eek he took all my money, And it m[C]ay sound funny,
But I c[D7]ome to get my money b[C]ack,
And everybody say J[G]ack don't you k[D7]now.   

You don't t[C]ug on Superman's c[G]ape, You don't s[C]pit into the w[G]ind,
You don't p[C]ull the mask off that old Lone Ranger,
And you do[D7]n't mess around with J[G]im. [D7]    


Well a h[G]ush 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 h[C]e were cut in in bout a hundred places,

And he were shot in a couple more,
And you b[D7]etter believe,
They sung a di[C]fferent kind of story,
When big J[D7]im hit the f[C]loor now they s[G]ay  

You don't t[C]ug on Superman's c[G]ape, You don't s[C]pit into the w[G]ind,
You don't p[C]ull the mask off that old Lone Ranger,
And you do[D7]n't mess around with S[G]lim.[D7]    


Y[G]eah, big Jim got his hat, Find out where it's at,
GG
And it's not hustlin' people strange to you,
E[G]ven if you do got a two-piece custom-made pool cue.


Y[G7]eah you don't t[C]ug on Superman's c[G]ape, You don't s[C]pit into the w[G]ind,
You don't p[C]ull the mask off the old Lone Ranger,
And you d[D7]on't mess around with S[G]lim.



Uptown got it's hustlers, The bowery got it's bums,

42nd Street got Big Jim Walker,

He's 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,
GG
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.

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