Amy Winehouse - Fuck Me Pumps

Bsus4       Bm7          Dm             Fm6

When you walk in the bar, and you dressed like a star,

C             Bm   G

 Rockin' your F me pumps.

        Bsus4      Bm7            Dm        Fm6

And the men notice you, with your Gucci bag crew,

      C             Bm      G

Can't tell who he's lookin' to.

         Bsus4        Bm7         Dm             Fm6

'Cuz you all look the same; every-one knows your name,

    C                Bm       G

And that's you whole claim to fame.

   Bsus4      Bm7         Dm            Fm6

Ne-ver miss a night, 'cuz your dream in life,

      C         Bm      G

Is to be a foot-ballers wife.



Chorus 1:



               Am                       D

You don't like players, that's what you say-a,

        G                              C

But you really wouldn't mind a million-aire.

               Am                             D

You don't like ballers, they don't do nothing for ya,

          G                C

But you'd love a rich man, six feet two or taller.



Verse 2:



       Bsus4       Bm7       Dm        Fm6

You're more than a fan, look-in' for a man,

        C           Bm        G

But you end up with one-night-stands.

         Bsus4         Bm7          Dm           Fm6

He could be your whole life, if you got past one night,

    C         Bm         G

But that part never goes right.

       Bsus4          Bm7         Dm       Fm6

In the morning you're vexed, he's onto the next,

        C           Bm     G

And you didn't even get no taste.

      Bsus4     Bm7          Dm         Fm6

Don't be too up-set, if they call you a skank,

              C           Bm          G

'Cuz like the news; every-day you get pressed.









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Chorus 2:



               Am                       D

You don't like players, that's what you say-a,

        G                              C

But you really wouldn't mind a million-aire.

               Am                             D

You don't like ballers, they don't do nothing for ya,

          G                C

But you'd love a rich man, six feet two or taller.



Verse 3:



    Bsus4          Bm7             Dm            Fm6

You can't sit down right, 'cuz you jeans are too tight,

         C          Bm     G

And your lucky it's ladies night.

          Bsus4     Bm7          Dm           Fm6

With your big empty purse, every week it gets worse,

   C                  Bm             G

At least your breasts cost more than hers.

       Bsus4   Bm7          Dm            Fm6

So you did Mia-mi, 'cuz you got there for free,

    C            Bm         G

But somehow, you missed the plane.

    Bsus4        Bm7 Dm         Fm6

You did too much E;  met somebo-dy,

    C               Bm      G

And spent the night getting caned.



Chorus 4:



        Am                            D

Without girls like you, there'd be no fun;

     G                               C

We'd go to the club, and not see any-one.

        Am                               D

Without girls like you, there's no night-life,

          G                         C

All those men just go home to their wives.



Verse 4:



      Bsus4     Bm7             Dm           Fm6

Don't be mad at me, 'cuz you're pushing thir-ty,

         C          Bm        G

And your old tricks no longer work.

                Bsus4          Bm7           Dm         Fm6

You should have known from the job, that you always get dumped;

   C             Bm      G

So dust off your fuck me pumps.