Kueen Kong

If Virginia is for lovers and hustlers, Kula “Kueen Kong” Voncille is both—unapologetically. Born and raised in Richmond’s 804, tempered in the 757’s open-mic crucible, she carries the duality that defines the Commonwealth: grit sharpened by grace, bars built on story. Her ascent didn’t happen overnight. It started with a shoreline, a steering wheel, a spiral notebook—and a daughter who crowned her before the world did.From the 804 to the 757: Polishing the Pen Richmond raised her. The 757 made her dangerous.Kula’s music journey officially took flight in the Newport News/Hampton Roads/Virginia Beach corridor while she was enrolled at Old Dominion University. “It was easier to get all the kinks out down there,” she says. “So when I moved back home I was a more polished artist.” The ocean became a metronome—close enough to quiet the noise, steady enough to center the writing. And Portsmouth’s open mics? That was the dojo.

There was always a stage, always a crowd, always a chance to test new material and sharpen the sword.The Mantra Made Flesh “VA is for Lovers and Hustlers” isn’t just a state slogan to Kula—it’s a morning ritual and an artistic ethic. “It means getting up and being in love with myself and then the journey,” she says. Reinvention isn’t a phase; it’s fuel. “I love recreating myself. I love trying new things. Sometimes it works and sometimes it don’t. But I wouldn’t know unless I tried. Plus, I’m always learning new things from each recreation.” She embraces both the experiments and the errors, treating them as drafts toward a sharper self.The Switch: A Backseat Ovation Before 2014, Kula was a student of hip hop—studying flow, cadence, breath, story. The spark that shifted her from student to certainty came from the backseat of her car. She was freestyling—really freestyling—for the first time in a long time with her kids riding along. She was in the zone, oblivious to everything but the beat and the bars. When she stopped, her daughter clapped and shouted, “Mommy, you’re the best rapper ever!”“I said to myself… I am,” Kula says. That moment hardened into momentum. “And I have been in the mix ever since.”Winning the Room: Soul Logistic Radio Gong Show When Kula stepped onto the Soul Logistic Radio Gong Show stage, she brought reverence and precision—performing original verses over classic instrumentals: Black Rob’s Woah, Black Sheep’s The Choice Is Yours, and Nas’ Ether. It was strategic and sincere. The crowd recognized the beats and leaned in; the lyrics did the rest.Winning first place unlocked two doors at once. “Mentally, I was floored,” she says. “I was able to go backstage and meet Slick Rick. That was a huge moment for me.” Professionally, it was the blueprint for stagecraft—how to control the room, arc an energy, and leave a mark.Opening for Slick Rick: The Gospel of Story Some rites of passage can’t be faked. Opening for Slick Rick—the crown prince of narrative—taught Kula the true assignment: “You have to command the crowd’s attention and keep them engaged. It’s not about dropping heavy bars but about creating a story that people can see.” It confirmed what she learned from Slick Rick and Dana Dane: the most unforgettable emcees don’t just rap—they stage a world in the listener’s head.Attracting Her Own Glory There’s a difference between being on a lineup and being the reason people show up. Kula felt the shift at open mics when folks started coming “on purpose”—not for the scene, but for her. “Those people came to the event for the sole reason of seeing ME perform,” she says. That realization didn’t just validate her talent; it revealed a calling. “I knew I would be good at putting together events for artists and myself to showcase their talent.” The crowd told her what to build next.The Lineage and the Lift Ask Kula to list influences and she names architects of craft: Eminem, Lauryn Hill, J. Cole, T.I., Redman. What she pulled from them isn’t mimicry—it’s mechanics. “The use of double entendres. Sometimes even triple. I like to give people the UGLY FACE when they hear a verse from me.” She wants her bars to bend the brain and bruise the beat—complex enough to reward a rewind, clear enough to cut through a room.If you force her to define her style with “only verbs,” she laughs and breaks the rule with purpose: “Eclectic. Funny. Lyrical.” It fits. She’s a shapeshifter with precision timing—able to punch, pivot, and play in the same sixteen.Show, Don’t Tell Kula would rather spit a hot 16 than write a thesis about her pen. That choice—equal parts confidence, preparation, and audience respect—is intentional. “First, I like to display my confidence. Second, I like to show that I’m prepared. Lastly, I like to give people the opportunity to figure it out for themselves.” In an era of over-explained artistry, Kula protects the magic. She performs it.A Bar That Still Chills Ask for a line that still gives her goosebumps, and she doesn’t hesitate: “Lickin my thumbs countin my guap til finger tips are green, I don’t need to cuss in every verse to make it sound obscene, I just ate up 21 rappers cause I need protein. Got the math from The GOD. Now I’m microphone fiend… nawh mean.”It’s a layered homage to Rakim—an emcee who rarely curses and once bragged about devouring twenty-one rappers. “This was my way to deconstruct the verse and make it mine while showing my respect to The GOD,” Kula says. It’s reverence with reinvention.The Ritual: Concept First, Road Therapy Next Kula’s writing process is both disciplined and intuitive. “It starts off with a concept—heartbreak, talking ish, being in love.” Then comes the slow freestyle. She gets in the car, sparks something, sets the instrumental on repeat, and drives. Whatever lines remain when the engine stops are the chosen ones. “Whatever I remember… that is meant for the song. If I forgot a bar, then it wasn’t meant to be.”From there, it’s a three-step capture: voice record on the phone, transcribe into a rap composition book, then type it on the computer. Random bars get stashed as voice notes—breadcrumbs for future records.Clarity Over Clever for Clever’s Sake Wordplay matters. So does comprehension. Kula keeps a trusted circle—people she runs bars through to ensure the punchlines land without muddying the message. “I don’t want to muddle the metaphor trying to be over clever.” The test is simple: if the story blurs, the bar gets cut.Song vs. Record For Kula, it’s not semantics—it’s substance. “To me it’s physical. The record is the physical product—vinyl or CD or USB drive. The song is what you hear and the emotions that you experience.” One you can hold. The other holds you.Part 2: Platforms, Prizes, and the Kueen’s CodeRadio With a Pulse: Kickin’ It With Kula Kula didn’t just find her voice—she built a platform for it. Kickin’ it with Kula: All Things Hip Hop launched in September 2025 on K101.2POP, a digital station with its ear to the culture. The blueprint is fundamentals-first: the core elements of hip hop as the foundation, then themed builds that keep the classroom and the cipher connected.Each month, recurring segments anchor the show’s community:

A Producer & A MC: pairing beat architects with bar technicians to dissect collaboration in real time. Indie Artist Showcase: a stage for emerging voices with something to say and the chops to say it. Future arcs are practical and necessary: step-by-step breakdowns on pushing a single, transparent talk on finances in hip hop, and interviews with prominent figures who’ve navigated the gauntlet. It’s the game, minus the gatekeeping.

The Parking Lot Pull Up: Innovation Under Pressure The Parking Lot Pull Up was born in 2020—out of lockdowns, out of a closed mic, out of a community that refused to stop creating. Partnering with a restaurant owner who’d hosted open mics pre-COVID, Kula helped pivot the stage to the asphalt: artists performing outside while audiences stayed in their cars, tuned in, and lit up the lot. It wasn’t just a workaround; it was a revelation. Safe, intimate, raw, and undeniably hip hop.The vision now is bigger: a two-day festival that turns the pull up into a pull-through—artist performances, vendors, producer showcases, and more. The DNA of the event remains the same: accessibility, community, and curation that respects craft.Building Platforms Without Losing Self Event work started as a means to an end—“a way for me to make a space for myself to perform.” It grew into an ecosystem. The challenge, Kula admits, is staying visible inside your own machine. “It’s hard not to lose yourself while helping others.” But surrounding herself with artists sharpened her, widened her lens, and multiplied her opportunities. Iron sharpens iron—and sometimes books the venue.Wins That Mean Different Things Not all trophies weigh the same. For Kula:

2017 Music and Lyrics (1st place) was the first big one—a lyrical competition that she won with Exposed, a raw true story about catching a boyfriend cheating. It was the first time she put her real life on wax—and it landed. 2018 RVA Music Awards (Best Rapper, Best Lyricist) were affirming, but she’s candid about internet voting and popularity dynamics. Flowers are appreciated; the work remains the proof. RVA Rap Elite’s first-ever female Battle Rap Championship is the crown jewel. She didn’t know she had that gear, and the format—same beat, two-minute displays judged on pen and performance—pulled it out of her. The win came on a head-to-head freestyle, and she carries that one like a banner.

Sharpening the Sword, Guarding the Spirit Kula is clear: she’s not trying to live in the YouTube battlegrounds where personals fly and families get name-dropped. The Rap Elite arena was about penmanship and performance under pressure. If someone mentions her name in a bar? That’s a signal she’s effective. The mentions made her write better; the noise never moved her off center. But lines exist. “The minute you mention my kids or my mom… it’s a wrap.”The Most Underrated Skill in Hip Hop Ask her what champion emcees need that the culture doesn’t hype enough and she doesn’t hesitate: “Storytelling and imagery.” In an age of algorithmic hooks and disposable flexes, she plants her flag in narrative. If you can’t paint a picture, you can’t make it timeless.The Kueen’s Image: Aggressive Femininity When someone calls her “Kueen Kong,” she wants a specific image to flash: power with poise. “The strength in the courage to be able to go hard with rhyme scheme and delivery but to be in my softness to showcase as well.” It’s range, not contradiction. The bar can bruise. The presence can soothe. That’s the point.Message to the Young Queens of RVA For the next generation watching her moves, Kula’s core message is non-negotiable: you don’t have to be half-naked or hyper-sexual to be heard. Intelligence is attractive; skill is magnetic. “Showcasing intelligence is sexy too.”The Assignment: Restore the Feeling Finish her sentence and you get the mission statement: “If you’re not leaving my show with a new love for hip hop, I didn’t do my job.” Some people have given up on the genre, or at least the version they fell for first. Kula’s set is designed to reboot that spark—to remind you why the beat grabbed your chest and the story wouldn’t let go.Awards

2014 1st place winner of the Soul Logistic Gong Show Contest 2017 1st place winner of the Music and Lyrics Competition 2018 RVA Music Awards Best Rapper and Best Lyricist RVA Rap Elite FIRST Female Battle Rap Championship Winner

Contact

www.kulavoncille.com kula0322@gmail.com Instagram: @Kula_voncille TikTok: @kulavoncille0322