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Lyrics
Right back atcha
Right back atcha
Right back atcha, kid
Your words fall flat
I don’t think even hell would have ya
Just another fly by night plaything
Right back atcha
Right back atcha
Right back atcha kid
Burning up back roads when you were only fifteen
Turning up in back alleys diving in caffeine, swimming in codeine
Speedball, blasting through brick walls
Black seed, demon seed, tidal wave raging down the hall
Hell hath no fury like a teenybopper scorned
Angry fire but still cool shoulders and totally unconcerned
Cream puff or gun powder
Tell me, which one are you?
Scheme proof or weak beneath their power
Church goer or maybe connoisseur of booze?
Yea, you’re all that and a bag of chips
In the age of aging hit makers, whadya got to lose?
Right back
Right back
Atcha atcha ratcha
Atcha atcha atcha kid
Show me whatcha got for me
Cinema and cinnamon gum
Respite I hope from days of misery
Place long stem rose in the barrel of the gun
Details
GeneratedJul 16, 2026
Duration2:16
LanguageEnglish
Style
Create a high-energy, rollicking classic rock song in the raw, swaggering style of the Rolling Stones at their peak
Credits
Prompt byAlex_Lo13
ModelAria v5.5
