Bowling Song lyrics

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 'til 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'm 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 Malachi, the bowling god
The smell of rosin gets my high, kiss those f*ckin' pins goodbye!
I'm Almighty Malachi, the bowling... bowling... god

Got a ball that's smooth and all black
I keep it in my favorite ball sack
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 Malachi, the bowling god
The smell of rosin gets my high
Kiss those motherf*ckin' pins goodbye!
I'm Almighty Malachi, the bowling... bowling...

Not a single man will try to beat Almighty Malachi
All who challenge me are slain; come on f*ckers, pick a lane
Marshall Holman and Gary di*kens, get in line for your ass kickins'
John Petraglia and Norm Duke; you're so lame, it makes me puke
Who amongst the pro-bowl sector dares to don his wrist protector?
Not that pus*y Nelson Burton, tells me that his wrist is hurtin'
Hey Mark Roth, hey Earl the Pearl
Are ya' scared to give the ball a hurl?
How bout' di*key Weber and his son Pete;
I'll turn the motherf*ckas to Cream of Wheat!
And as I roll the ball I cry, "Let me bowl or let me die!"
I'm Almighty Malachi, the bowling god
The smell of rosin gets me high, kiss those f*ckin' pins goodbye!
I'm Almighty Malachi, the bowling... bowling god!

Yeah, the bowling god...