[Verse]
G#sus4 G#m7 Bm Dm6
When you walk in the bar, and you dressed like a star,
A G#m E
Rockin' your D me pumps.
G#sus4 G#m7 Bm Dm6
And the men notice you, with your Gucci bag crew,
A G#m E
Can't tell who he's lookin' to.
G#sus4 G#m7 Bm Dm6
'Cos you all look the same; every-one knows your name,
A G#m E
And that's you whole claim to fame.
G#sus4 G#m7 Bm Dm6
Ne-ver miss a night, 'cuz your dream in life,
A G#m E
Is to be a foot-ballers wife.
[Chorus]
F#m B
You don't like players, that's what you say-a,
E A
But you really wouldn't mind a million-aire.
F#m B
You don't like ballers, they don't do nothing for ya,
E A
But you'd love a rich man, six feet two or taller.
[Verse]
G#sus4 G#m7 Bm Dm6
You're more than a fan, look-in' for a man,
A G#m E
But you end up with one-night-stands.
G#sus4 G#m7 Bm Dm6
He could be your whole life, if you got past one night,
A G#m E
But that part never goes right.
G#sus4 G#m7 Bm Dm6
In the morning you're vexed, he's onto the next,
A G#m E
And you didn't even get no taste.
G#sus4 G#m7 Bm Dm6
Don't be too up-set, if they call you a skank,
A G#m E
'Cos like the news; every-day you get pressed.
[Chorus]
F#m B
You don't like players, that's what you say-a,
E A
But you really wouldn't mind a million-aire.
F#m B
You don't like ballers, they don't do nothing for ya,
E A
But you'd love a rich man, six feet two or taller.
[Verse]
G#sus4 G#m7 Bm Dm6
You can't sit down right, 'cos you jeans are too tight,
A G#m E
And your lucky it's ladies night.
G#sus4 G#m7 Bm Dm6
With your big empty purse, every week it gets worse,
A G#m E
At least your breasts cost more than hers.
G#sus4 G#m7 Bm Dm6
So you did Mia-mi, 'cos you got there for free,
A G#m E
But somehow, you missed the plane.
G#sus4 G#m7 Bm Dm6
You did too much E; met somebo-dy,
A G#m E
And spent the night getting caned.
[Chorus]
F#m B
Without girls like you, there'd be no fun;
E A
We'd go to the club, and not see any-one.
F#m B
Without girls like you, there's no night-life,
E A
All those men just go home to their wives.
[Verse]
G#sus4 G#m7 Bm Dm6
Don't be mad at me, 'cos you're pushing thir-ty,
A G#m E
And your old tricks no longer work.
G#sus4 G#m7 Bm Dm6
You should have known from the job, that you always get dumped;
A G#m E
So dust off your fuck me pumps.
CHORD DIAGRAMS:
---------------
G#sus4 G#m7 Bm Dm6 A G#m E F#m B
C#ADGBC# C#ADGBC# C#ADGBC# C#ADGBC# C#ADGBE EADGBE EADGBE EADGBE EADGBE
x24452 x24232 xx0231 1x0110 032010 x24432 320003 x02210 xx0232
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