Standard (EADGBE)

Uptown got it's hustlers

 The bowery got it's bums

 42nd Street got Big Jim Walker

 He's a pool-shooting 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 looking for a man named Jim

 I am a pool-shooting boy

 My name Willie McCoy

 But down home they call me Slim

 Yeah I'm looking for the king of 42nd Street

 He driving 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 bopping in off the street

 And when the cutting were done

 The only part that wasn't bloody

 Was the soles of the big man's feet

 Yeah he were cut 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 hustling people strange to you

Even if you do got a two-piece custom-made pool cue

 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