Bowling Song (Almighty Malachi, Professional Bowling God)

Stephen Lynch - Pop
Bowling Song (Almighty Malachi, Professional Bowling God)
2 Plays
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 '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 fuckin' 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 motherfuckin' 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, fuckers pick a lane Marshall Holman, Gary Dickins(on), get in line for your ass 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 pussy 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 fuckas 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 fuckin' pins goodbye! I'm almighty Malakai, the bowling... bowlin... ohhhhh! The bowling god!!
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Credits
- Writers
- Stephen Lynch