You watch me on your TV
Say that my job is easy
Say I am not athletic
You think my sport's pathetic
But you can't judge me 'till you've walked a mile in my bowling shoes
So I don't get all the ladies
Got a mullet from the 80's
I am known throughout the valleys
As the prophet of alleys
And as I roll the ball I cry, "Let me bowl or let me die!"
I'm almighty Malakai, the bowling god
The smell of rosin gets my high
Kiss those f**in' pins goodbye!
I'm almighty Malakai, the bowling... the bowling... god
Got a ball that's smooth and all black
I keep it in my favorite ball-sac
I get a feeling in my soul
As I finger every hole
And as I roll the ball I cry, "Let me bowl or let me die!"
I'm almighty Malakai, the bowling god
The smell of rosin gets my high
Kiss those motherf**in' pins goodbye!
I'm almighty Malakai, the bowling... the bowling...
Not a single men will try, to beat almighty Malakai
All who challenge me are slain
Come on, f**ers pick a lane
Marshall Holman, Gary Dickins(on), get in line for your a** kickins'
John Petraglia and Norman Duke, you're so lame it makes me puke
Who amongst the pro-bowl sector
Dares to don his wrist protector
Not that p**y Nelson Burton, tells me that his wrist is hurtin'
Hey Mike Aulby, Earl the Pearl, are ya' scared to give the ball a hurl?
How bout' Dickey Webber and his son Pete? I'll turn the motha f**as to cream of wheat!
And as I roll the ball I cry, "Let me bowl or let me die!"
I'm almighty Malakai, the bowling god
The smell of rosin gets my high
Kiss those f**in' pins goodbye!
I'm almighty Malakai, the bowling... bowlin... ohhhhh!
The bowling god!!