Lyrics: you dont mess around with jim

You Don't Mess Around With Jim

Jim Croce

Uptown's got its hustlers

The Bowry's got its bums

Forty-second street's got Big Jim Walker

He's a pool-shootin' son of a gun

Well he's big and dumb as a man can come

But he's 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 ...)

(They say ...)

CHORUS:

You don't tug on Superman's cape

You don't spit into the wind

You don't pull the mask of the old Lone Ranger

And you don't mess around with Jim

(Ba-doo-da-doo-doo doo-doo-doo-doo doot)

Well out of South Alabama come a country boy

He said I'm lookin' for a man named Jim

I am a pool-shootin' boy, my name is Willie McCoy

But back home they call me Slim

He said I'm lookin' for the king of forty-second street

He's drivin' a drop-top Cadillac

And 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 that...)

(CHORUS)

Well a hush fell over the pool room

When Jimmy come boppin' in 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

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

(And now they say)

You don't tug on Superman's cape

You don't spit into the wind

You don't pull the mask of the old Lone Ranger

And you don't mess around with Slim

From: steve.johnson@his.com

You Don't Mess Around With Jim

(Jim Croce) c 1971

Uptown got its hustlers, G

Bowery got its bums G

42nd street got Big Jim Walker; G

he a pool-shootin' son-of-a-gun G7

Yeah, he big and dumb as a man can come C F C F

and meaner than a country hoss C F C

And when the bad folks all get together at night D C

You know they all call Big Jim "Boss"D C

just because-- and they say... G C G

Chorus

You don't tug on Superman's cape C7 G

You don't spit into the wind C7 G

You don't pull the mask off the old Lone Ranger C7

and you don't mess around with JimD7G C7 G C7

Well outa South Alabama come a country G

He said I'm lookin' for a man named Jim

I am a pool-shootin' boy, my name is Willie McCoy

But down home they call me "Slim" G7

Yeah, I'm lookin' for the king of 42nd street C F C F

He drivin' a drop-top Cadillac C F C

Last week he took all my money and it may sound funny D C

but I come to get my money back D C

and everybody say, "Hey Jack... don't you know..." G C G

repeat Chorus

Well a hush feel over the pool room G

Jimmy come a-boppin' in 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 G7

Yeah, he were cut in 'bout a hundred places C F C F

and he were shot in a couple more C F C

And you better believe they sung a different kind of story D C

when Big Jim hit the floor D C

Whoa... now they say... G C G

You don't tug on Superman's cape C7 G

You don't spit into the wind C7 G

You don't pull the mask off the old Lone Ranger C7

and you don't mess around with "Slim"D7G C7 G C7

Spoken, use G-C progression

"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."

repeat "Slim" Chorus

From: Todd