BOOP BAP: GARDEN OF QUEENS(response to BLACKSONIX BOOP BAP)

[INTRO] Yeah... LET’S WORK. They tried to starve the roots, still the flowers came back. BOOP BAP... New soil. Same Queens. This one is for every woman who watered her own grind. Fellas, stand up and protect that space. Queens... Y’all been feeding the culture. [VERSE 1] I saw the mic, they saw a plate. She brought the heat, they brought the hate. Fruit of the labor. Seeds in the beat. She grew a whole garden from cracks in the street. Industry loud, but they mute her wins. Still she peel back lies, let the truth cut in. Labels want sugar— she bring the spice. Turnip the volume, she cold with the slice. Brooklyn knows... She don’t chase lanes— she pave ’em. Queens... Line up—claim your acres. [CHORUS 1] BOOP BAP! Queens in the garden—make way! BOOP BAP! Turned every struggle into flame! BOOP BAP! Peel back the power—let ’em taste who we are! BOOP BAP! We bring the fruit! We bring the bars! BOOP BAP! Queens in the garden—make way! BOOP BAP! Turned every struggle into flame! BOOP BAP! Peel back the power—let ’em taste who we are! BOOP BAP! We bring the fruit! We bring the bars! [VERSE 2] They served crumbs while we cooked up feasts. (Too real!) Now they lining for a slice of the piece. (Why?) Same cold stages, different kind of flame. (Facts!) I was planting in the drought while they played in the rain. They said, "Smile, be sweet," when I stepped to the mic. (Nah!) But my voice got bite like a lemon in light. Every track got roots, every bar got juice. (Talk to ’em!) I’m the harvest that they prayed for when the well ran loose. I ain’t softer, I’m sharper— that’s a dangerous mix. (Woo!) Got the sauce in my walk, swing-jazz in my kicks. (Facts!) They threw shade on my name... Guess they watered my glow. (Bloom!) Now I’m vines on the walls of every sold-out show. [CHORUS 2] BOOP BAP! Queens in the garden—make way! BOOP BAP! Turned every struggle into flame! BOOP BAP! Peel back the power—let ’em taste who we are! BOOP BAP! We bring the fruit! We bring the bars! [VERSE 3] I was quiet in the back, just a pen, no stage. Now my flow swing wild like a vine off cage. Every "sit down" talk was a push to climb. I was juicing every second, turning pulp to shine. Rochester—hold it down. Put my name in the frame. Like a grape under pressure, I became champagne. I don’t need ’em to pick me, I be choosing the rows. Turned the concrete orchard, made the cypher my home. I go fast when it’s dark, shift to drum and bass route. Warrior in my vocals— ain’t no phasing me out. They thought the frost would kill me. It was pruning my view. Now the stage lights bloom wide when they feel what I do. [FINAL CHORUS] BOOP BAP! Queens in the garden—make way! BOOP BAP! Turned every struggle into flame! BOOP BAP! Peel back the power—let ’em taste who we are! BOOP BAP! We bring the fruit! We bring the bars! Grace in the walk! Pressure in the bars! Harvest from the scars! BOOP BAP! [OUTRO] Yeah... The table was never empty. The Queens were always cooking. Boom bap set the roots. Boop bap grew the fruits. Women in hip hop... your voice feeds crowds. BLACK SONICS. Brooklyn. BOOP BAP. LET’S WORK.