Uptown's got it's hustlers
The Bowery's got it's bums
And 42nd street's got big Jim Walker
He's a pool shooting son of a gun
Yeah, 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, yeah they say
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, do do do do
From south Alabama came a country boy
He said, "I'm looking for a man named Jim
I'm a pool shooting boy
My name is Willie McCoy
But down home they call me Slim
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
Everyone said
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, do do do do
Well a hush fell over the pool room
When Jim he came knocking off the street
And when the cutting was done
The only thing that wasn't bloody
Were the soles of the big man's feet
He was cut in 'bout a hundred places
He was shot in a couple more
And you better believe they sung a different kind of story
When big Jim hit the floor
Well they said
Oh 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
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, do do do do