Sho Nuff Quotes

it's what makes you grow up to have younguns and be a sho-nuff mammy all your own ... . A man ain't but trouble, just breath and britches and trouble

Can’t get my sheets to dry on the line, my front door won’t close it done swell up so much. Sho nuff couldn’t get a meringue to whip. Even my church wig starting to frizz. This morning, I can’t even get my stockings on. My legs is too swollen.

Cold soft drinks quenched my thirst one hot and humid July day after a cool drive to a mountain store. Seems like every woman in the place had on halter tops displaying their expensive tans. There were two women standing in front of me at the checkout counter. One said to the other, “You must be a lady of leisure, just look at your beautiful tan.' Then the other woman responded, 'No, you must be a lady of leisure, yours is much darker than mine.' A tall dark and handsome Black dude standing behind me whispering down my Black back said 'Sister, if those two are ladies of leisure, you must surely be a lady of royalty.' And in a modest tone, I replied, 'SHO NUFF?

True blues ain't no new news about who's been abused For the blues is as old as my stolen soul I sang the blues when the missionaries came Passing out bibles in Jesus' name I sang the blues in the hull of the ship Beneath the sting of the slavemaster's whip I sang the blues when the ship anchored the dark My family being sold on a slave block I sang the blues being torn from my first born And hung my head and cried when my wife took his life And then committed suicide. I sang the blues on the slavemaster's plantation helping Him build his free nation I sang the blues in the cottonfield, hustlin' to make the daily yield I sang the blues when he forced my woman to beg Lord knows how I wished he was dead I sang the blues on the run, ducking the dogs and dodging the gun I sang the blues hanging from the tree in a desperate attempt to break free I sang the blues when the sun went down, cursing the master when he wasn't around I sang the blues in all these wars dying for some unknown cause I sang the blues in a high tone, low moan, loud groan, soft grunt, hard funk I sang the blues in land sea and air, about who when why and where I sang the blues in church on sunday, slaving on monday, misused on tuesday, abused on wednesday, accused on thursday, fried alive on friday, and died on saturday. Sho nuff singing the blues I sang the blues in the summer, fall winter and spring I know sho nuff the blues is my thing I sang the backwater blues, rhythm and blues, gospel blues, saint louis blues, crosstown blues, chicago blues, mississippi GODDAMN blues, the watts blues, the harlem blues, hoe blues, gut-bucket blues, funky chunky blues, i sang the up north cigarette corp blues, the down south sprung out the side of my mouth blues, I sang the blues black, i sang the blues blacker, i sang the blues blackest I SANG BOUT MY SHO NUFF BLUE BLACKNESS! from "True Blues" by the Last Poets

Gabriel’s Trumpet† One time uh preacher had uh church an’ his members wuz pretty wicked, so he made up his mind tuh give ’em uh strong sermon tuh shake ’em up. So he preached on judgment day. Somebody’s parrot had done got away and had done flew up in de loft uh de church, but nobody didn’t know it. So de preacher preached on till he got down to where de angel Gabrill would be blowin’. He said, “Brothers an’ sisters, when Gabrill shall plant one foot on sea an’ one on de dry land wid his trumpet in his hand an’ shall cry dat Time shall be no mo’—whut’ll you poor sinners do? When blows his trumpet, ‘Tooot toot’, whut will you do?” Every time he said ‘toot toot’ de parrot would answer him; but he wuz so busy preachin’ he didn’t notice nothin’. But some of the people heard de parrot an’ dey begin slippin’ out a de church one an’ two at uh time. Dey thought it wuz Gabrill sho nuff. He kept on preachin’ in uh strainin’ voice wid his eyes shet tight, till he hollered ‘toot, toot’ and de parrot answered him so loud dat everybody heered ’im, an’ everybody bolted for de door, de preacher, too. But he wuz way up in de pulpit and so he wuz de very las’ one tuh reach de door. Justez he wuz goin’ out de door de wind slammed it on his coattail and he hollered: “Aw naw, Gabrill, turn me loose! You ’low me de same chance you ’lowed dese others.” —JAMES PRESLEY.

Maybe nothin' ain't real sho' nuff. Maybe 'taint no world. No elements, no nothin'. Maybe wese jus' somewhere in God's mind. But when he wiggled his tired toes the world thudded and throbbed before him.

Fo' de Lawd!' he say, 'dat mule drunk! he be'n drinkin' de wine.' En sho' 'nuff, de mule had pas' right by de tub er fraish grape-juice en push' de kiver off'n de bairl, en drunk two er th'ee gallon er de wine w'at had been stan'in' long ernough fer ter begin ter git sha'p.

Wait, what? Ain’t no thing. I’ma choke you out ironically, Evan, so you be too cool for school. Cool as a motherfuckin’ corpse, Evan.” He let a little air through. “I love something! I do love something.” “You do?” “My cat, Cisco.” “Cisco? After the outlaw?” “After the networking company.” “Yeah, I’m sho-nuff gonna choke this motherfucker out!

Why, that be one man who ain’t got nothin’ but hate poisonin’ his blood. But there ain’t been no one born that be that way from the start. No, somethin’ done put that poison in him. We prob’ly won’t never know what put it there, but it been put there sho ‘nuff. You gots to pity a man like that. Now, I be hatin’ the things he be doin’ as much as anybody else, but it won’t be doin’ my heart no good to be hatin’ him. That won’t do nothin’ but put poison in my own blood. No, I reckon I’ll keep on pitying that poor empty shell of a man.

Tony’s patois kept getting broader as we talked. Like Hawk, he seemed able to turn it on and off. “Sho ’nuff,” he said.

Paul a smart kid,” Hawk said. “I know.” “And he pretty strong,” Hawk said. “He is.” “Got from his uncle,” Hawk said. “Uncle Hawk?” “Sho’ nuff.” “Jesus Christ,” I said.

Why, that be one man who ain’t got nothin’ but hate poisonin’ his blood. But there ain’t been no one born that be that way from the start. No, somethin’ done put that poison in him. We prob’ly won’t never know what put it there, but it been put there sho‘nuff. You gots to pity a man like that. Now, I be hatin’ the things he be doin’ as much as anybody else, but it won’t be doin’ my heart no good to be hatin’ him. That won’t do nothin’ but put poison in my own blood. No, I reckon I’ll keep on pitying that poor empty shell of a man.

I've parodied a powerful quote from Rob Hill Sr. A quote that, in the crazy ass world of right now, sho'nuff screams to me. Inquiring minds, you're up.

I'm parodying a powerful quote from Rob Hill Sr. A quote that, in the crazy ass world of right now, sho'nuff screams to me; because my goal, too, was to build a life I don't need a vacation from. Through tears, I'm scratching this one off my bucket list.

Girl, you really figur’ worryin’ gonna do you any good? Ain’t gonna do nothin’ but stir up thin’s inside. That be a recipe for misery, sho ‘nuff. You just gots to keep walkin’, Carrie girl. You gots to keep livin’. That old road of life will unfold before ya, just like it be meant to. You just gotta keep walkin’.