Fuck Me Pumps, Amy Winehouse (acordes)

Autor: amy winehouse | 22265 visualizaciones

          Bsus4       Bm7 
When you walk in the bar, 
        Dm             Fm6 
And you dressed like a star, 
C             Bm   G 
 Rockin' your F me pumps. 

        Bsus4      Bm7 
And the men notice you, 
          Dm        Fm6 
With your Gucci bag crew, 
      C             Bm      G 
Can't tell who he's lookin' to. 

         Bsus4        Bm7 
'Cuz you all look the same, 
      Dm             Fm6 
Every-one knows your name, 
    C 
And that's you, 
      Bm       G 
Whole claim to fame. 

   Bsus4      Bm7 
Ne-ver miss a night, 
     Dm            Fm6 
'Cuz your dream in life, 
      C         Bm      G 
Is to be a foot-ballers wife. 

           Am 
You don't like players, 
                D 
That's what you say-a, 
        G 
But you really, 
Wouldn't mind, 
          C 
A million-aire. 

        Am 
You don't like ballers, 
They don't do, 
        D 
Nothing for ya, 
          G 
But you'd love a rich man, 
C 
 Six foot two or taller. 

Verse 2: 

       Bsus4       Bm7 
You're more than a fan, 
     Dm        Fm6 
Look-in' for a man, 
        C 
But you end up, 
     Bm         G 
With one-nights-stands. 

         Bsus4         Bm7 
He could be your whole life, 
       Dm           Fm6 
If you got past one night, 
    C         Bm         G 
But that part never goes right. 

       Bsus4          Bm7 
In the morning you're vexed, 
     Dm       Fm6 
He's onto the next, 
        C 
And you didn't even, 
Bm      G 
 Get no taste. 

      Bsus4     Bm7 
Don't be too up-set, 
        Dm         Fm6 
If they call you a skank, 
              C 
'Cuz like the news, 
      Bm          G 
Every-day you get pressed.

              Am 
You don't like players, 
                D 
That's what you say-a, 
        G 
But you really, 
Wouldn't mind, 
          C 
A million-aire. 

    Am 
You don't like ballers, 
They don't do, 
    D 
Nothing for ya, 
          G 
But you'd love a rich man, 
C 
 Six foot two or taller. 

Verse 3: 

    Bsus4          Bm7 
You can't sit down right, 
         Dm            Fm6 
'Cuz you jeans are too tight, 
         C         Bm     G 
And your lucky its ladies night. 

          Bsus4     Bm7 
With your big empty purse, 
      Dm           Fm6 
Every week it gets worse, 
   C 
At least your breasts, 
Bm              G 
 Cost more than hers. 

       Bsus4   Bm7 
So you did Mia-mi, 
         Dm            Fm6 
'Cuz you got there for free, 
    C 
But somehow you, 
Bm          G 
 Missed the plane. 

    Bsus4        Bm7 
You did too much e, 
Dm          Fm6 
 Met somebo-dy, 
    C 
And spent the night, 
Bm       G 
 Getting caned.

    Am 
Without girls like you, 
              D 
There'd be no fun, 
     G 
We'd go to the club, 
                C 
And not see any-one. 

   Am 
Without girls like you, 
                 D 
There's no night-life, 
          G 
All those men just, 
                 C 
Go home to their wives. 

Verse 4: 

      Bsus4     Bm7 
Don't be mad at me, 
            Dm      Fm6 
'Cuz you're pushing thirty, 
         C 
And your old tricks, 
   Bm     G 
No longer work. 

                Bsus4 
You should have known, 
         Bm7 
From the job, 
         Dm         Fm6 
That you always get dumped, 
   C 
So dust off your, 
Bm       G 
 Fuck me pumps.