Triomphe (French for triumph) is a card game dating from the late 15th or early 16th centuries. It originated in either France, Spain (as triunfo), or Italy (as trionfo) and later spread to Germany and England. It may have started as a simplified version of trionfi (tarot) where the rules were transferred to a smaller and cheaper deck, essentially a poor man's tarot game. While trionfi has a fifth suit that acts as permanent trumps, triomphe randomly selects one of the existing four suits as trumps. Triomphe became so popular that during the 16th century the earlier game of trionfi was gradually renamed tarocchi, tarot, or tarock. This game is the origin of the English word "trump" and is the ancestor of many trick-taking games like Euchre (via Écarté) and Whist (via Ruff and Honours).
17th century French Triomphe, or French Ruff, was played by four players divided into two partnerships with a 52-card deck. The order of the cards from highest to lowest is King, Queen, Jack, Ace, 10, 9 ... 2. Each player takes a card from the deck, the one with the highest card becomes the dealer and passes five cards face down to everyone. The remaining 32 cards form the stock. The dealer then turns up a card from the stock, the suit of that card will be the trump suit. An optional rule is that the player with the Ace of trumps gets to exchange the exposed card with one from his hand. He can do the same with the remainder of the stock taking any trumps until he exposes a non-trump. This is called robbing the stock. If the dealer exposes an ace as the trump, then he gets the right to rob the stock. The current dealer picks the next dealer out of the opposing team.
[Intro]
I thought my CD was done,
But that's not what they say
Do an insult track,
We need it for radio play
[Verse One]
American Idol, that's what I look for,
In the poop section of my local record store.
Ruben or Clay, oh which one should I pick,
It's like choosing which puddle of vomit to lick.
And when I want something even more fruity and fit,
I look up N for NSYNC or T for Timberlake.
So many skills Justin's making a buck at,
Does he rap, does he sing, he doesn't know what to suck at!
Now as for the bitches, lets give Britney thanks,
For the face that launched a million preteen skanks.
You were a virgin, that had to be hard,
You had more bones in your mouth than a St. Bernard.
[Chorus]
I Keed, I Keed
He's just making little jokes,
I joke with you,
Little dog, Little jokes,
I Keed, I Keed,
He's just making little jokes,
and your a good actress too.
[Verse Two]
Now lets go to Walmart,
Where they won't sell me CD,
Those company's nuts are in a jar in aisle three.
But you can see Christina in all her sluthood
It's like watching porn but the music's not as good.
I want to stuff my TV's crotch with a dollar
Still I would hump you if I could wear my flea collar.
You're looser than my poop after eating honeydew,
Only 50 cents can flunk more than you!
And yet you're too old for Fred Durst to desire,
He's checking out the cast of Lizzie McGuire
Soon Fred will try to get Mandy Moore,
To open for him and I don't mean on tour!
You're not the first person for R Kelly
His video's premiere in the LAPD.
I believe they set up an innocent guy.
You know what Kel? I believe I can fly
[Chorus]
Now look how frickin cool those guys from the Strokes are
Their rifts are three times as old as my jokes are
The white stripes guy, is that your wife or your sister
Shouldn't you be playing country music mister.
Hey Coldplay, maybe you should be Coldsore.
Back when you were U2, I liked you so much more.
Somehow your song yellow reminds me of pee
I think that when it's over, it's a big relief to me
Yo Pink, is that your hair or a tattoo?
I didn't know Supercuts had a drive through
Yo Nelly, what the hell kinda name is that?
That's about as gangster as an Easter Bonnet hat.
And Snoop says he clean, well you make the call
The guy's higher than Billy Joel's cholesterol,
Snoop there's only room for one dog putz,
And I can rap, can you lick your own nuts?
Poop Diddy, are you in show business still?
I didn't know wearing a suit was a skill.
J.Lo, J.Lo the giant tail-o
For a doggie's nose, that's the holy grail-o
Shakira's butt's fine, but it won't hold still.
I sniffed Elton John's butt for a thrill.
I sniffed J.Lo's ass and got too touchy feely
She let loose a bomb that was bigger than Gigli.
[Chorus]
Avril Lavinge, punk queen, now there's a kidder,
Go back up north, Celine needs a baby-sitter
Philip Glass, hey tunnel ass, your not immune
Write a song with a f****** tune
And on the list of pooches, don't leave off MTV,
I scared Emineminem, so they gave the hook to me.
Slim Shady, why do you find me scary?
We are just two regular dudes who banged Mariah Carey.
Wipe off that frown, just do without
Hey my mom was a bitch too, but I don't go writing songs about it.
[Chorus]