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 ass 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 pussy 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 fuckas 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!!