[Intro — dry vocal over bass pickup] Yeah. Still growing. Let it knock. [Verse 1 — nimble bounce; accelerate through internal rhymes] Two weeks, same pot—kept expecting a jungle; Saw a little green tip; had to laugh and get humble. I been asking for the fruit with the roots still adjusting; Now I’m learning how to tend what I used to keep rushing. Small decisions, real revisions, quiet daily demonstrations; I been asking You for power; You been working on my patience. Kept measuring the growth by the inches I could see; Missed the miles of little changes You were growing underneath. When a friend was running late, I could finally say, “We’re good”; Didn’t need to make him pay for being later than he should. Holy Spirit, keep on tending what I barely understand; Let the love You put inside me make it all the way to my hands. [Hook — fully rapped; relaxed but forceful] Roots down, head high, let the low end knock; Still growing when the whole thing looks like it stopped. I can move with the rhythm, ain’t moved by the room; Spirit working on the inside—watch the good come through. [Verse 2 — tighter double-time pockets; pause at punchlines] Everybody sees the branches; almost nobody sees the digging; Takes a minute for the visible to catch up with the living. Don’t confuse a little dirt with the end of my story; God can work a plot of ground till the plot starts turning for me. I was counting what was missing; He was cultivating more; Saw a seed and called it little—had a whole tree in the core. I got grounded, found my footing; now the bass can shake the floor; I can reach a little higher when I’m settled at the source. Let the season take its time; I don’t need to fake a harvest; Painted fruit won’t fill a plate, no matter who the artist. Give me something with some substance, something somebody can taste; Love that shows up with a meal and has the time to sit and stay. [Hook — bass slides answer the ends of the lines] Roots down, head high, let the low end knock; Still growing when the whole thing looks like it stopped. I can move with the rhythm, ain’t moved by the room; Spirit working on the inside—watch the good come through. [Break — two bars; rimshots and bass keep bouncing] Some of the biggest things Happen where nobody’s looking. [Verse 3 — fast, playful precision; leave room after each couplet] Little roots, little shoots, little proof breaking through the pavement; Had to learn that being planted doesn’t mean a life of waiting. Get to work, check a friend, pick a day, pull up with provisions; Put some legs on what I prayed; make some room inside the kitchen. He said, “Man, I’m doing good,” but his face told me different; So I let the food get cold while I gave him time to finish. Used to think a bigger reach meant a bigger set of numbers; Now a bigger reach means two more plates when I’m making supper. Fruit gets heavy, branches lower—there’s a lesson in the bending; If there’s weight to what I’m saying, let it show in what I’m lending. Joy got rhythm, love got feet, peace got room inside the schedule; Holy Spirit, keep me growing—let the everyday be special. [Final Hook — same pocket; added vocal doubles] Roots down, head high, let the low end knock; Still growing when the whole thing looks like it stopped. I can move with the rhythm, ain’t moved by the room; What You planted on the inside, let my people feel it too. [Outro — dry vocal; bass stops clean] Still growing. Let it show.
