Текст песни Jim Croce - You Don`t Mess Around With Jim
Jim Croce - You Don`t Mess Around With Jim слова песни
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