You Don't Mess Around With Ed

Sega's got it's black-ops,
The po-lice got their mechs,
Sony Enforcement's got Shotgun Eddie
He's a walkin'-talkin' one-man wreck,
Well, he's cute and bish as a girl could wish,
But he's crazier than Dom on crack,
And when Ping went rogue downtown in Toky-j0,
It was Ed they sent to bring her back ... that's a fact ...
And they say ...

You don't outrage animé girls,
You don't kick Gameru's head,
You don't mock the sword of Kenshin Himura,
And you don't mess around with Ed.

With a sketch-pad made of magic come a fanboy,
He say "I'm lookin' for a guy name Ed,
"I draw sad girls in snow
"My handle's Piro, you know
"But Mom and Pop just call me Fred,
"j0, I'm lookin' for the bishie King of Fighters here
"He got a shotgun in his pack,
"Last week he kidnapped my Sony
"And it may sound phony
"But I come to get my Sony back,"
And ever'body say "Jack ... don't you know that:"

You don't outrage animé girls,
You don't kick Gameru's head,
You don't mock the sword of Kenshin Himura,
And you don't mess around with Ed.

Well a hush fell over the techies -
Eddie come boppin' into the lab,
And when the drawin' were done
A hundred snowy girl's were runnin'
Off that magic skecthin' pad,
Ed was glomped in 'bout a hundred places
And he was huggled a hundred more,
And you better believe
They sung a diff'rent kind of story
When Bish-Ed hit the floor ... now they say:

You don't outrage animé girls,
You don't kick Gameru's head,
You don't mock the sword of Kenshin Himura,
And you don't mess around with Fred.

[spoken]Yeah, Bish-Ed played da fool,
Find out what is cool,
And it ain't stealin' some fanboy's EDS, hick,
Even if you do got a brand-new custom-made Killstick ... yea ...

You don't outrage animé girls,
You don't kick Gameru's head,
You don't mock the sword of Kenshin Himura,
And you don't mess around with Fred.

(apologies to Jim Croce)
=====================================================
You Don't Mess Around With Jim
Jim Croce


Uptown got it's hustlers
Bowery got it's bums
42nd Street got Big Jim Walker
He's a pool-shootin' son of a gun
Yea, 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 ...

CHORUS:
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

Well outa south Alabama came a country boy
Hey say 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
Yea 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 come to get my money back
And everybody say Jack ... don't you know that

(Repeat Chorus)

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
Yea 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

(Repeat Chorus [New last line] And you don't mess around with Slim)

[Spoken] Yea, 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 ... yea

(Repeat Chorus)

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