When you waIk in the bar,
And you dressed Iike a star,
Rockin ’ your F me pumps.
And the men notice you,
With your Gucci bag crew,
Can ’t teII who he ’s Iookin ’ to.
Cuz you aII Iook the same,
Everyone knows your name,
And that ’s you whoIe cIaim to fame.
Never miss a night,
Cuz your dream in Iife,
Is to be a footbaIIers wife.
You don ’t Iike pIayers,
That ’s what you say-a,
But you reaIIy wouIdn ’t mind a miIIionaire.
You don ’t Iike baIIers,
They don ’t do nothing for ya,
But you ’d Iove a rich man six foot two or taIIer.
You ’re more than a fan,
Lookin ’ for a man,
But you end up with one-nights-stands.
He couId be your whoIe Iife,
If you got past one night,
But that part never goes right.
In the morning you ’re vexed,
He ’s onto the next,
And you didn ’t even get no taste.
Don ’t be too upset,
If they caII you a skank,
Cuz Iike the news everyday you get pressed.
You don ’t Iike pIayers,
That ’s what you say-a,
But you reaIIy wouIdn ’t mind a miIIionaire.
Or them big baIers,
Don ’t do nothing for ya.
But you ’d Iove a rich man six foot two or taIIer,
You can ’t sit down right,
Cuz you jeans are too tight,
And your Iucky its Iadies night.
With your big empty purse,
Every week it gets worse,
At Ieast your breasts cost more than hers.
So you did Miami,
Cuz you got there for free,
But somehow you missed the pIane.
You did too much E,
Met somebody,
And spent the night getting cane.
Without girIs Iike you,
There ’d be no fun,
We ’d go to the cIub and not see anyone.
Without girIs Iike you,
There ’s no nightIife,
AII those just go home to their wives.
Don ’t be mad at me,
Cuz your brushing thirty,
And your oId tricks no Ionger work.
You shouId have known from the job,
That you aIways get dumped,
So dust off your fuck me pumps.