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 walked a mile in my bowling shoes So I don't get all the ladies And my clothes are 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 am mighty Malakai, the bowling god The smell of rising gets my high Kiss those f---in' pins goodbye! I am mighty Malakai, the bowling... the bowling... god Got a ball that's smooth and all black I keep it in my lucky 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 am mighty Malakai, the bowling god The smell of rising gets my high Kiss those f---in' pins goodbye! I am mighty Malakai, the bowling... the bowling... Not a single men will try, to beat almighty Malakai All that challenge me are slain Come on, f---ers pick a lane Marshall Home and Gary Dickens, get in line for your a** kickins' John Patracky and Norton Duke, your so lame it makes me puke Oh I'm on the pro-bowl sector There's to Don his wrist protector Not that p**y Nelson Burton, tells me that his wrist is hurtin' Hey Mark Walfey, Earl the Pearl, are ya' scared to give the ball a hurl? How bout' Nickey 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 am mighty Malakai, the bowling god The smell of rising gets my high Kiss those f---in' pins goodbye! I am mighty Malakai, the bowling... bowlin... ohhhhh! The bowling god!!