Crooked Cobras are at the top of the food chain. At the first scent of PBR, this trio hits the surface at 666 mph. The feeding frenzy begins as they drag you under with old school, punk rock malice. These guys don’t rattle off a warning and slither away. They latch onto your jugular and paralyze you with 120 decibels of pure Rock & Roll venom. Crooked Cobras are more cunning than velociraptors. You become entranced by the pulsating bass lines and blistering drum beats, and then everything turns to red as razor sharp guitar chords rip your belly open. The kill isn’t quick or clean. They clamp down their jaws and rip you limb from limb with each two minute anthem gnawing through flesh and bone. The funny thing is, as consciousness slips away, you realize that you can’t wait to do it again.
- Gabe Cetra
- See more at: http://www.punkbandpromotions.com/crooked-cobras
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