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's stronger than a country horse   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 said, "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've come to get my money back      And everybody say, "Jack, don't you know?   And 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