"Can Can" lyrics

Yo, sweetheart, pass me the 40 out the fridgerator
Ghost, all you do is burn weed and read papers
Cursin' out rappers, man, fuck all that bullshit
Every time I ask for something you start to bitch
Beefin' 'bout me not bein' home, why I don't pick up my phone
Girl, I got enough problems, leave me alone
You stupid ass punk faggot mob trick, no you didn't
All I do is cook, clean and watch all the children
Ask you for a car, you like "Chill, I'm still buildin'"
Mama always said that I should've stayed with Melvin
I bust Melvin ass, so? So get the fuckin' door
Tell your whore to get the door, shut up 'fore I break your jaw
Uh-uh, Ghost, you wrong, that ain't right
Cussed my cousin to get a bitch you'll spend a night
Fuck trick, get my knife, get the slicer that he lookin' like
Cut they cocksuckin dick off, motherfuckin' right
I wanna double-team the [?] don king, yo, Rakeem
Come on in, nigga, peep this, check out the scene
This woman is wildin' with bullshit [?], takin' turns, stylin'
Kickin' sand but they never touched the Cayman Islands
Fuck the Cayman Islands, shit, you be on [?] island
Callin' your lawyer with the [?] cases pilin'

Now's the time for all good men to get together with one another
We got to iron out our problems and iron out our quarrels
And try to live as brothers and try to find a peace within without stepping on one another
And do respect the women of the world, remember you all have mothers
We gotta-

Girl, we gotta love more, get more into us
Fuck all the Bentleys and the Cadillac trucks
And your girlfriend, I had to have her smacked up, she had it comin'
Even her man got yakked up, clapped up
Lord have mercy, Jesus help me, well Jesus can't help you now when that's [?]
I wanted 'bout the alligator Gucci bag [?] Versace sweatshirt with the 7G tax
What about it, baby? What- say what- what about it baby?!
You cut up all my shit I post up in yo fuckin' lady
A real man would never disrespect or hurt his family, true
Come home every night [?] with this fuckin' mansion
True, wait, I'm gettin' cake, how the hell you gettin' cake?
You left in with some boxers on, come back with some little Hane's
Chill, boo, you modelin' now? God [?] muscles, now what, you hollerin' now?
I only came to apologize to you, compromise with you
Ask you would you marry me and show this rock to you
Bam, look, look at your face, come and give me kiss
Pucker up, please, boy, why the hell you doin' this?
Give me kiss, I love you double, love you and I love the cuddles
Subtle wanna [?] up and look, we make the perfect couple

Now's the time for all good men-