Emre, Plates on Repeat

Verse

Yo, Emre, plate king, coronation of grease (uh-huh),

Crown made of crumbs, throne of takeout receipts (cha-ching),

You inhale like vacuum — buffet's biggest fan, man,

Got more sauces on your beard than friends in your plan.

You call it "taste," I call it evidence — crime scene cuisine,

Every fork a confession, every napkin a magazine.

Roll up to a pizza like you own the whole block (skrrt),

If calories were votes, you'd be the late-night shock.

Talk big on the gram, but the gym ghosted your number,

You bench a fork, bro — that's your only thunder.

Stomach's a zip code, mailman knows your cravings,

You RSVP to life — "Yes, bring the whole damn phrasing."

Emre, you're the sequel nobody waited to see,

A horror on a plate — man, you scared of the T.V.

Chorus

Emre, Emre, plates on repeat (repeat) (repeat),

Mouth on a mission, you never retreat (nah),

Emre, Emre, stomach got receipts (got 'em),

You love every flavor — and every defeat (uh-uh).

Verse

Look, you snack like a clockwork — tick, tock, tummy talk,

Midnight marauder, fridge flashlight, cereal stalk.

You Netflix and chill? Nah, you Netflix and fill (fill),

Sofa's molded to your shape like a clingy will.

Friends call you picky, but you love everything (yeah),

From dumplings to donuts, you make calories sing.

Birthday cake? You eat the whole song (swallow),

Got a Michelin of cravings but no sense of wrong.

Your belt's an art piece — it's a noose of denial,

I spit fire lines while you burp up trial.

You brag 'bout your hustle, but your hustle's a buffet run,

Ambition on layaway — appetite outdone.

Name's Emre but you answer to "extra" (extra),

Cardio's a rumor — you believe in the texture (texture).

So take this verse as a whisper from the scale — (scale)

You're heavy on the menu, light on the tale (ha).