The Arc de Triomphe de l'Étoile (French pronunciation: [aʁk də tʁijɔ̃f də letwal], Triumphal Arch of the Star) is one of the most famous monuments in Paris. It stands in the centre of the Place Charles de Gaulle (originally named Place de l'Étoile), at the western end of the Champs-Élysées. It should not be confused with a smaller arch, the Arc de Triomphe du Carrousel, which stands west of the Louvre. The Arc de Triomphe honours those who fought and died for France in the French Revolutionary and the Napoleonic Wars, with the names of all French victories and generals inscribed on its inner and outer surfaces. Beneath its vault lies the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier from World War I.
The Arc de Triomphe is the linchpin of the Axe historique (historic axis) – a sequence of monuments and grand thoroughfares on a route which runs from the courtyard of the Louvre to the Grande Arche de la Défense. The monument was designed by Jean Chalgrin in 1806 and its iconographic program pits heroically nude French youths against bearded Germanic warriors in chain mail. It set the tone for public monuments with triumphant patriotic messages.
The 1974 Prix de l'Arc de Triomphe was a horse race held at Longchamp on Sunday 6 October 1974. It was the 53rd running of the Prix de l'Arc de Triomphe.
The winner was Daniel Wildenstein's Allez France, an American-bred four-year-old filly trained in France by Angel Penna, Sr. and ridden by Yves Saint-Martin. Saint-Martin had previously won the race on Sassafras in 1970 whilst Penna had trained San San to win in 1972. Allez France was the first of Wildenstein's four winners of the race.
In French racing, horses in the same ownership are usually "coupled" and treated as a single entry for betting purposes. The favourite for the race was the four-year-old filly Allez France, second in the race in 1973 and winner of numerous major prizes including the Criterium des Pouliches, Poule d'Essai des Pouliches, Prix de Diane, Prix d'Ispahan, Prix Vermeille and Prix Ganay. Allez France was coupled in the betting with Daniel Wildenstein's three-year-old filly Paulista, a four length winner of the Prix Vermeille on her previous start. Ten days before the race, Allez France's regular jockey Yves Saint-Martin sustained a serious leg injury and looked likely to be replaced by Lester Piggott, but announced himself fit to ride after undergoing pain-killing injections. Nelson Bunker Hunt was represented by the Missisipian, winner of the Grand Criterium and Prix Niel and by the stayer Busiris. The other French contenders included the Grand Prix de Paris winners Sagaro and Tennyson as well as Kamaraan, On My Way, Margouillat (Prix Dollar) and Comtesse de Loir, winner of the Prix Saint-Alary. A three horse British entry was headed by Highclere who had won the 1000 Guineas and the Prix de Diane and also included the Eclipse Stakes winner Coup de Feu and the dual Goodwood Cup winner Proverb. Allez France/Paulista headed the betting at odds of 1/2, with Mississipian/Busiris on 6.5/1 and Sagaro (coupled with his pacemaker Valdo) at 9.25/1,
[Hook]
De de de de de de de de de da de day
All y'all hip hop niggas buy ya smoke around the way so
If it comes to it I can see y'all
De de de de de de de de de da de day
All y'all hip hop niggas buy ya smoke around my way so
If it comes to it I can see y'all
Believe me I can see y'all
[Verse 1]
You lack some minerals and vitamins, respect due to that
The average hip hop consumers now's like who dat?
Songs nowadays ain't stayin' stuck in ya brain
It got to the point that all songs that suck sound the same
I'm speakin' on behalf of a third of us in the game
That when dope comes up they ain't announcin' our names
Now I'm runnin' up in clubs screamin'
Wid my songs pumpin' in 'em
Celeb status weighin' in like Kenan
Ain't big headed or gassed up
I'm stayin' on the cement
Don't wanna hear that talk 'round me
Y'all playin' wid my feelings
Cause y'all couldn't help but notice bitches ravin' over me then
Ya automatically think they gave off fragrants of my semen
Play attention closely to how stupid y'all look
Like a producer droppin' dime on a lieu Buddah took shit
Back to the song, continue wid splittin' lyrics in half
to the point of the bathrooms you ask if it's on
They be like yeh it is, don't his raps be the bomb
Listen once we're done zippin' up our pants sing along
Bring it on, whatever, that's how the shit's s'posed to be
I been new nice I been since Hawaian Sophie please
[Hook]
[Verse 2]
This is for all my real niggas smokin' chronic in blunts
To my British niggas smokin' spliffs along wid ?silca?
To all my European niggas smokin' ounces of skunk
To my Dominicans makin' thousands offa just one
I can make songs for y'all shit, why the fuck not
I'm sick of first hit, *(breath and cough)*
Hid it from pops, cops see
Don't it pay to be dope?
I'm addicted to bitches they gimme brains to in love
But I'm tied up like Rudolph on a sleigh and wid ropes
And cut him short like the trip you move 'n' made for the gold
Yeh, yeh, yeh, yeh, yeh, yeh, yeh, yeh, yeh, yeh, yeh