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 d___ens, 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____ 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!!

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