Fuck Me Pumps


Verse 1: 

         Bsus
      Bsus      
4 Bm7
       Bm7       
  When you walk in the bar, Dm
       Dm       
  Fm6
       Fm6       
  And you dressed like a star, C
        C        
  Bm
       Bm       
   G
        G        
Rockin' your F
        F        
me pumps. Bsus
      Bsus      
4 Bm7
       Bm7       
  And the men notice you, Dm
       Dm       
  Fm6
       Fm6       
  With your G
        G        
ucci bag crew,  C
        C        
Bm
       Bm       
   G
        G        
Can't tell who he's lookin' to. Bsus
      Bsus      
4 Bm7
       Bm7       
  'Cuz you all look the same, Dm
       Dm       
  Fm6
       Fm6       
  Every-one knows your name,  C
        C        
And that's you, Bm
       Bm       
   G
        G        
Whole claim to fame. Bsus
      Bsus      
4 Bm7
       Bm7       
  Ne-ver miss a night, Dm
       Dm       
  Fm6
       Fm6       
  'Cuz your dream in life,  C
        C        
Bm
       Bm       
   G
        G        
Is to be a foot-ballers wife.
Refrϣo -------------
Am
       Am       
  You don't like players,  D
        D        
That's what you say-a,  G
        G        
But you really, Wouldn't mind,  C
        C        
A
        A        
 million-aire. Am
       Am       
  You don't like ballers, They don't do,  D
        D        
Nothing for ya,  G
        G        
But you'd love a rich man, C
        C        
  Six foot two or taller. Verse 2: Bsus
      Bsus      
4 Bm7
       Bm7       
  You're more than a fan, Dm
       Dm       
  Fm6
       Fm6       
  Look-in' for a man,  C
        C        
But you end up, Bm
       Bm       
   G
        G        
With one-nights-stands.
Bsus
      Bsus      
4 Bm7
       Bm7       
  He could be your whole life, Dm
       Dm       
  Fm6
       Fm6       
  If you got past one night,  C
        C        
Bm
       Bm       
   G
        G        
But that part never goes right. Bsus
      Bsus      
4 Bm7
       Bm7       
  In the morning you're vexed, Dm
       Dm       
  Fm6
       Fm6       
  He's onto the next,  C
        C        
And you didn't even, Bm
       Bm       
   G
        G        
 G
        G        
et no taste. Bsus
      Bsus      
4 Bm7
       Bm7       
  Don't be too up-set, Dm
       Dm       
  Fm6
       Fm6       
  If they call you a skank,  C
        C        
'Cuz like the news, Bm
       Bm       
   G
        G        
Every-day you get pressed.
Refrϣo -------------
Am
       Am       
  You don't like players,  D
        D        
That's what you say-a,  G
        G        
But you really, Wouldn't mind,  C
        C        
A
        A        
 million-aire. Am
       Am       
  You don't like ballers, They don't do,  D
        D        
Nothing for ya,  G
        G        
But you'd love a rich man, C
        C        
  Six foot two or taller. Verse 3: Bsus
      Bsus      
4 Bm7
       Bm7       
  You can't sit down right, Dm
       Dm       
  Fm6
       Fm6       
  'Cuz you jeans are too tight,  C
        C        
Bm
       Bm       
   G
        G        
And your lucky its ladies night. Bsus
      Bsus      
4 Bm7
       Bm7       
  With your big empty purse, Dm
       Dm       
  Fm6
       Fm6       
  Every week it gets worse,  C
        C        
At least your breasts, Bm
       Bm       
   G
        G        
 C
        C        
ost more than hers. Bsus
      Bsus      
4 Bm7
       Bm7       
  So you did Mia-mi, Dm
       Dm       
  Fm6
       Fm6       
  'Cuz you got there for free,  C
        C        
But somehow you, Bm
       Bm       
   G
        G        
Missed the plane. Bsus
      Bsus      
4 Bm7
       Bm7       
  You did too much E
        E        
, Dm
       Dm       
  Fm6
       Fm6       
  Met somebo-dy,  C
        C        
And spent the night, Bm
       Bm       
   G
        G        
 G
        G        
etting caned.
Refrϣo -------------
Am
       Am       
  Without girls like you,  D
        D        
There'd be no fun,  G
        G        
We'd go to the club,  C
        C        
And not see any-one.
--------------------
Am
       Am       
  Without girls like you,  D
        D        
There's no night-life,  G
        G        
All those men just,  C
        C        
Go home to their wives. Verse 4: Bsus
      Bsus      
4 Bm7
       Bm7       
  Don't be mad at me, Dm
       Dm       
  Fm6
       Fm6       
  'Cuz you're pushing thirty,  C
        C        
And your old tricks, Bm
       Bm       
   G
        G        
No longer work. Bsus
      Bsus      
4 You should have known, Bm7
       Bm7       
  From the job, Dm
       Dm       
  Fm6
       Fm6       
  That you always get dumped,  C
        C        
So dust off your, Bm
       Bm       
   G
        G        
 F
        F        
uck me pumps. CHORD D
        D        
IAGRAMS: --------------- Bsus
      Bsus      
4 Bm7
       Bm7       
  Dm
       Dm       
  Fm6
       Fm6       
   C
        C        
 E
        E        
ADGBE
        E        
  E
        E        
ADGBE
        E        
  E
        E        
ADGBE
        E        
  E
        E        
ADGBE
        E        
  E
        E        
ADGBE
        E        
  x24452 x24232 xx0231 1x0110 032010 Bm
       Bm       
   G
        G        
Am
       Am       
   D
        D        
 E
        E        
ADGBE
        E        
  E
        E        
ADGBE
        E        
  E
        E        
ADGBE
        E        
  E
        E        
ADGBE
        E        
  x24432 320003 x02210 xx0232

Amy Winehouse
(Guitar chords, ukelele, keyboard, tabs, bass, drums and lyrics)

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