Karrion Kross, the Harbinger of Doom, has always lived in the shadows of sports entertainment, but the "Killer" moniker isn’t hyperbole. It is a résumé. From the blood-soaked indies to the bright lights of the main event, Kross brings a psychological warfare that few can survive. He doesn't want to pin you. He wants to break your will.
Here comes the Killer Kross No heaven to save your loss The mask goes on, the lights go dim You sold your soul—he’s cashing it in killer kross
The pendulum swings for the weak and the brave Killer Kross is the other side of the grave Which direction would you like to refine—wrestling, fiction, or poetry? Karrion Kross, the Harbinger of Doom, has always
They found the boss the next morning. He had tripped on his own shoelace. The coroner called it a freak accident. The underworld called it a Tuesday. (Verse) Tick-tock, the hourglass cracks A leather coat and a thousand attacks You hear the choir, you see the smoke But by the time you scream, you’re already broke He doesn't want to pin you