Amy Winehouse

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         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
'Cos you all look the same; everyone knows your name,
    C                Bm       G
And that's you whole claim to fame.
  Bsus4      Bm7         Dm            Fm6
Never miss a night, 'cuz your dream in life,
      C         Bm      G
Is to be a foot-ballers wife.

Chorus:
               Am                       D
You don't like players, that's what you say-a,
        G                             C
But you really wouldn't mind a millionaire.
               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.

       Bsus4       Bm7      Dm        Fm6
You're more than a fan, lookin' 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 upset, if they call you a skank,
              C          Bm          G
'Cos like the news; everyday you get pressed.

Chorus:
               Am                       D
You don't like players, that's what you say-a,
        G                             C
But you really wouldn't mind a millionaire.
               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.

    Bsus4          Bm7             Dm            Fm6
You can't sit down right, 'cos 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 Miami, 'cos you got there for free,
    C            Bm         G
But somehow, you missed the plane.
    Bsus4        Bm7 Dm        Fm6
You did too much E;  met somebody,
    C               Bm      G
And spent the night getting caned.

Chorus:
        Am                            D
Without girls like you, there'd be no fun;
     G                              C
We'd go to the club, and not see anyone.
        Am                              D
Without girls like you, there's no nightlife,
          G                         C
All those men just go home to their wives.

      Bsus4     Bm7             Dm          Fm6
Don't be mad at me, 'cos you're pushing thirty,
         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.


Chords used:
Bsus4    x24452
Bm7      x24232
Dm       xx0231
Fm6      1x0110
C        032010
Bm       x24432
G        320003
Am       x02210
D        xx0232