The Untold Adventures Of Gary Guttersnypes

by Gi3MO

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On the south coast of England there is a town called Brighton, although certain residents there call it Boozetown, for reasons you’d understand if you went there on a cold autumn night when the sea wind makes shivers that only a double rum or two can extinguish. In Brighton there’s a big old beach, and along that beach there runs a long promenade. On that promenade, there is a bench. Sat on that bench, there is a man, swigging from a can of something that you can be sure isn’t Red Bull. You may find him noshing on a box of greasy chicken, or smoking something hand-rolled, as the waves wash the beach. Meet Gizmo, aka Gary Guttasnypes, aka Big Gizzy, noteworthy microphone molester and scourge of the South Coast.

You know Giz. You know him as 20% of the vocal constituents of Rum Committee, the 10-strong – at least – collective of dastardly swine responsible for dodgy (in a good way) underhand (again, a compliment) confections like Boozetown and Committee Is Boss, records that drip with liquor sweat and camaraderie and beats to bludgeon you in the skull. But there’s a time in every man’s life when he has to go it alone, and for Gary Guttasnypes, the time has come, a time to tell tales of hitherto unimparted misdemeanors…

Great adventures need great music, on some Indiana Jones shit. Well remember those things called “beats”? Beats that went UHH, and THUNK, and WHUT, and KLACK, and got you in the solar plexus rather than nibbling your neck? These those beats right here. Raw beats, beats with too much cellulite in their arse, those Iron Gut beats, Dogfood with its clattering Soul Assassins boom, rainy day afternoon sesh jazz on Ashes Falling, the ragged-ass rumba of Bingo!, the metronomic funk dirt of Go Back… And, through it all, the man Gary Guttasnypes going it alone – no rap guest drops here – singing songs of sickness and a pocket full of rye (whiskey) and, in Britflix, the finest single-theme scheme you’ll hear this year.

Everybody needs some adventure in their life. Well, here’s thirteen of them to get you started.


released October 25, 2013

TRACKS 3,4,6,9,10,11 & 13 PRODUCED BY KD



all rights reserved


Rum Committee Brighton, UK

Rum Committee is a Brighton supercrew consisting of 4 Emcees 1 Singer and 5 producer/Dj's. The Committee are known for smashing tracks/shows/battles or any other task that is laid out in front of them with creativity, originality & flair. Hard hitting debut album "Boozetown" has set the precedent for a plethora of solo and team projects which will continue to push barriers and turn heads alike. ... more

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Track Name: Better Late Than Never
1st Verse

Late this evening
But i made it raise the ceiling
Cane to trade
It aint Appealing
Like the vacant feeling
gained from cheating
Play the game, arrange a meeting
Or just Take a Beating
Claim you need it
Settle beefing
With a lame agreement
Put you in the frame
and you'll get blamed for stealing
Ace revealing,
making trails
Like a Blazing phoenix
Save ya Scheming
Ancient demon
With hellacious features
Pay the meter,
raise my feet up With a case of beaters
Pay my travel Like a paratrooper,
barracuda, Hacking up you larrys
Without Mac computers
Fuck a salad
I'm as fat as Buddha
at the boozer and a bruiser
Cladded with the
padding like a mass consumer
Act a nuisance
Tag ya Bentley Phantom Cruiser
With some mad solutions
Scratch ya windows with the
Hand of Kruger
Mash bazookas,
You can't reach me like a Dan haduken,
Cancer tumor,
Gary With an automatic
Rap maneuver

Can't take no more (Can't take no more)
So say no more (Whut)
All these jank spitters yea they ruin it for me
and they're doing it for free!?

Can't take no more (Can't take no more)
So say no more (Whut)
All these jank rappers yea they ruin it for me
and they're doing it for free!?

2nd Verse

Fuck them twats
Above the flat I live in
Fuck your gang they're wack at spittin'
Had me thinking
Dam my fam are killing
All these actors in it, innit
Smash your image, snatch your spirit
Like I dashed a mirror matching image
it was for the cash I did it
Clashing till you man submitting
Spat specific,
practice with them massive lyrics,
Max emitted passion in it
Bad suspicion that is lingering
like Cactus pricking
Copycats are slippin'
cos they lack sufficient naturalisms
Uhh huh
you mugs are in a lotta trouble
Dodgy actors cat their favourtie rappers
like a body double
Im'a dog you with the knowledge
Have your morals muddled
Clobber you and leave you swallowed up
under some solid rubble
Jostle hustles , picking up the pieces
Like you droppin puzzles,
hope ur dogs are muzzled
When the Grog is guzzled,
Not as subtle
Since a horrid little wrongun
with a Snotty bubble
I been in some constant trouble

Track Name: Iron Gut
Verse 1

Self raised,
That was the burden for real
Its like I'm out here making flour
Cos I work for the mil
Chasing clowns for dirty wages
In this circus of filth
Purpose built,
Leave you layin on a Burgundy quilt
With no guilt
Pass the case and crack another Stella,
Cos my lines on every road
just Like they double yellas
run it clever,
don't assume that I won't lump a fella
Punch a bredda,
never shy away from any Scuffle ever
Spittin' blood
Stand for everything I live and love,
Hit em up
and never stop until the Giz is dust
I got the whole crowd rockin'
cos I'm sick as fuck, Bring the dubs
Pull my card, I'm the king of clubs
You're miniature around the boss
Its sinister up out the top
Bound to god, box with the devil
You're allowed to watch
Messin' with my money?
You can count the cost
and get stung like a cloud of
a thousand wasps


and You can watch while we Drown in grog,
yea you can watch while we drown in grog
you can watch while we drown in grog
marrfucker iron stomach like a thousand squats

Verse 2

Subtle like I never had to struggle ever
Pen it like a troubled letter
Voice has got that crumpled leather gutter texture
If I'm grumpy catch a lumpy bredda,
you're invalid tossin' salads
while I'm out to get them Tubs of feta
I'm In to win
kicking you mugs up the arse
And lickin' a fifth
I'm In to sting,
Rippin' you fuck ups apart
My bars considered a sin
I'm in it to bring a grimace and spit
The rigorous will
Of a Syllable king
Shimmy and swing,
Your beats are ringing and tinny as piss
You idiot give a million kids
Tinnitus, shit
How can I sit here and listen to to this?
Trust me, you don't give me nothing,
You're bluffing, the stuff that you bring don't convince me a bit
I crush em and pull out the stuffin'
I duff em and rush em,
and Hit em with Fists
No discussion its done
I'm just punching you bums
At my limit and Sick of this shit
Sick of this shit
Aint nothing equivalent
Take your free ticket
And rip it to bits
you sniveling hippys that spit
got crustys that sit on your Shriveling syphilis dicks
But everything is love , it really it is well,
It was all love,
'til you caught feelings like a bitch now

Track Name: Go Back (Gold)
Verse 1

Moulding soul
With them olden tools
You need to go to school,
I Go back to them golden rules
Scolding fools
and I'm known as Cruel
In this mode I'm fueled
and I'm Colder than a bowl of gruel
That's when I'm
Boring ya centre-piece
Spittin' summin ugly
like Victorian dentistry
You won't find me
tourin in tel-aviv
get my power in a flower like
Them broads from the seventies
Blessing from the Heavens
he should pay me quickly
From a place that's strictly
Faith and Biggie over Drake and Nicki
They say I smoke too much,
I need a break its silly
Uh! Make a milly
Then ill blaze a Philly
Lick a barrel
With committee, in the slick apparel,
I'll be council rich
Banger racing Mickey Carroll
Its Still life like that tin of Campbells
inking classics like its Charles Dickens in the saddle


Verse 2

If you're mates with Gizzy
Tell your other friends that
that's the kiddie,
yea, let's all get giddy of sack of piddy
Got my family wimme
Crack a Tyskie, smash the city
Always carry big cups
Like some massive tittys
If we touring, acting gutter
Then your boring act'll suffer
Rum is thicker than that water
That's my brothers
Listen kid. you out here beggin' like an idiot,
I'm sick of it
Tryna put my bredrin on and Diddy it?
Little pricks,
are nothing but a minion to bigger things,
Its hideous to think, you think you're sick at this
know its Strictly biz
so Giz is in to Haggle
I'm in to raise the stakes cos this life it is a gamble
Its a hassle,
you on the rock just Like a little Fraggle
Yous a friggin' snitch
And No-one likes a tittle-tattle
comics for ya ears all exploding in the panels
You kids are flannels,
No-one give a fuck about your shitty channel

Turn it off! Turn it off. Turn it off.

Outro Cuts
I act like no-one out there could touch Gizzy
So I rap like no-one out there could fuck with me
act like no-one out there could touch Gizzy
So I rap like no-one out there could fuck with me x2

(Fuck you)
My attitude is all fucked up and real shitty
My attitude is all fucked up and real shitty
Track Name: Sultan
Verse 1

Down a becks
For the Sound effect
If I aint got the Bottle
Put My Scabby fingers round the neck
Exit in a Cloud of peng
At loud events,
Its dry insulting me and kinda rich
just like some Saudi men
Louw it then
You havn't got the Boulders fam
I'm old school
I'm from the 80s like a shoulder-pad (Haa)
Control the hands
With the soul of flash
My solar flash
Melting holes in your Polar caps
Goin' mad
Hold me back
'For I slowly crack
The writings on the wall
Like its Chrome and black (Uh)
Do you get it, do you over-stand?
Double O going bang with the Golden strap
Police wanna Collar that man
Had to Swallow that bag
Now he's gone and that's that
Coppers in the system like pipes
On a gas
I'm a don it like Madge
When I Follow that van

I do it differently to you and them,
Big Gizzy from Committee yea my crew the best,
who again? you again,
we shuffle paper like the credits on the news at ten
we shuffle paper like the news at ten
we shuffle paper like the news at ten
we shuffle paper like the news at ten
make em say who again? thank god YOU AGAIN,

Verse 2

Its a lie fella I never tried fail,
quite pail, Whole bagga Cats
in the whip tellin' 9 tales
If Religion make u righteous then your minds frail,
I scale, the Holy Grail of divine trails,
The vine trails like a fine wines origins,
picking off the branch In the forest Like foraging
Hollering, like a drive-by bollocking
Fake bitch catch a fat lip like colagen
Call it cosmetic, hot headed, with a Bomb fetish,
a lost relic like Loch-ness is
Plastic bosses reppin' arms that are prosthetic,
prophetic, my top penning got god jealous
Yeaa that's whats happenin' now,
I seen that bredda at the show out the back with a scowl,
Acting like your missus is the baddest in town
But I wont ever be in awe
Cos she slagging about (Uh)
I'm making money and I'm tracking it down,
like the only motherfucker with a bag in the drought
I'm Staggering out, bladdered with at can at my mouth
And make the Moz of this art
With that classical sound
Another Challenger down
I Rinse em instantly, this a Symphony of infamy
cos everybody got it In for me
I'm always on the winning team
You kidding me? I kill a beat,
And keep on rappin' like the
Winter freeze

Track Name: Dogfood
Verse 1

Big Giz I be everything you wish you was,
Fucking up the battle
Leave you dickheads rattled
stinking when i'm drinking Grog,
Making Dogfood of these chumps
When I'm in the spot
I am pedigree and my chums
Like to Winalot,
I'm Slicing rappers into meaty chunks,
speaking on repeated funk,
and with that feeble punch,
a kid could probably beat you up,
I Heat it up,
it's your evening lunch
Deep breathing
Speech powered by my heaving lungs
I'm abusing these set laws
to get more, old folks
asking 'why he paint the town red for?'
I'm not that one you wanna send for
fuck your ketaphors,
heads nodding at the back flog a dead horse
On this track we the best like it's S-class
can't see the signs
then you're dead
like you trespassed
only blame ourselves if we get parred
but that'll never happen cos we rep hard


Welcome to the show
let me get past
push to the front
of the belly of the beast
like stretchmarks
Yes star
I'm in the top few
drop crews
you aint getting nothing
but Dogfood

Verse 2

I stay gutter like a drain cover,
Blaspheme, I'm taking out your wack team
like train buffers
When i'm summoned
from the next realm
They get hell, step down
Or your heads found in a trench now
Murdered muthaphuckas
and I Slept well
the best while you clowns claiming animal
are let downs
Like balloons is, move with the booze
I'm on cans like units
My musics the truth for you pooches
Reppin South, with selected sounds
Your whole game's pretend
just like Wreck-It-Ralph
With the lekky out yea
You'll get tekken down
Check it now,
I'm collecting scalps
When the records out
A vocal force
Givin' you a dose
like a Trojan horse
and that produce always
Local sourced
You can Get it in ya local stores
Tryna battle's
tryna row upstream
with 2 Broken oars

Track Name: Mothership (Ego Trip)
Verse 1

Back broke with the world on my shoulders,
mad quotes spat with a mouth fulla ulcers,
Gang heavy, roll up like boulders, drink from my cup?
That'll liquidize ya skull bruv,
on some Indiana Jones stuff
Link like Cold Crush
bones of you old mugs
These Lying snakes need to own up
Flow with ya throat cut
and choke on your own blood
My names Gizmo and you wanna hack me
I smack beats and make more contraptions than acme
Cats couldn't cat me
Catch up or match me
Me against that
Is like absinthe to shandy
Split personality
schizophrenic tag team
Dirty like Rab c
life on a Cracked screen
I Jump hurdle like track meets
And aint gonna stop til them purples are stacked neat

Verse 2

Everyday lax, put an axe through my planner ,
mouth lookin' rags like a bag fulla spanners,
Rum from Havana
To the gut got me bladdered
Now I'm staggering around in the slums with a hammer
living off The crumbs that I gather
Numb to the fun and the sun got me Knackered
Cos its dry when it come like Savannah
And my funds got me glum
so I sunk me a gallon
And I'm in sync with Ugliness
I find comfort in the guttering
There's something in the scummy things
What I wrote was
Never summin writ
I just Scribble on a page with a Bic until its coloured in
and that's another southern hit
But on reflection probably could of changed it up a bit
Well, I done it for the fuck of it
Now all I need to know is
Where's the mothership I come here with
Track Name: Bingo!
Yudunwanadrink no
I make sinkholes when I Tip toe
Thru ya crib cos I'm big mo
No contest Dinlo
Money is a pain
cos I aint gonna win dough
Bent back Under my bars like limbo
On a drum beat, beat-all like Ringo.
Ill keep on it, keep doin my thing
'til One line gets me a house like bingo.

You don't wanna bust that ting

you're a lunch and a prick, (twat)
muck about
Get punched in the dick
I don't really care if its fair cos I come from the bits
Where shit gets thick
And the scum wanna drink
clunk widda sink
Runt of the litter, with the
Punks in the pit,
funk widda twist
Get drunk, step up, get jumped,
get slumped, get lumped, widda brick

Or Sumthin sick

I made the riddim widda little bit of cunning,
wudda give it to my cuzzin
but then Gizzy had to run it
Cos I'm givin it a hunnit
If I did it couple summers back
I really reckon that
The kiddie
Rizzle wudda done it
Kick a little summin
Cos I kill it and ya buzzin
I don't listen to the bitchin and the fussin,
cos I love it
Rum Committee, Giz and all the others,
Got em Sick of all the rubbish
And so they hitching up to Sussex

Like FUCK this

To sum it up you're in deep shit,
You can't fuck with the Giz you're a penis
I'm a demon on beats
and you're meanless
And it runs thru my veins so I bleed it.
See I speak for a reason,
Speech is treason
You could never reach this Feeling
Seeding, leeching, breathing
creeping, leaving,
change like trees in the seasons

our musics like our drink cos
We aint Having pop
Rum committee Smashin spots
Drunk and getting bladdered lots

my musics like my drink cos
I aint Having pop
Gizzy Smashin spots
Drunk and getting bladdered lots
Track Name: Ashes Falling
Verse 1

Ashes falling from the heavy Cuban
The weather humid, zoom in,
something moved me like a revolution
33 per minute on the record what its rounded to
i sit down with drinks in a thick cloud of gloom
My hood hides deserted eyes
The Murky right, serpentine
Thieves wear a shirt and tie
No respect I Show Dissent
and keep their noses bent, code of men,
grow resentful of my closest friends
hardheaded and i'm heartless like tinman
The yin-yan spins
hands dirty like a binman
I'm that guy
street like Pad-Thai,
I aint talking Akai
But Mp's get smacked til they act right
The flow aint summin you can ascertain
when chemicals evaporate
They coming back as Acid rain
the blackest days
Made The Fear numb
So my cold heart sung
And it Froze up their tear ducts

(Chorus: Rag 'N' Bone man)
Wanna take your soul (take your soul)
There's nothing left (nothing left)
Wanna clock my moves (they wanna clock my moves)
Every other step

Verse 2

collisions with instinctiveness
Intrinsic links presented
In the Limitless
Any thinking uninhibited
Scams are legitimate?
Man I'm just sick of it
Money over music
bland over brilliance
Grands over everything
worked and I fought for it
Complaints Over Sentiments
Mindless over thoughtfulness
fuck your dreams
Destruction what they lust and fiend
With the clarity of claret on a dusty scene
Crush your schemes
snuffed your team in a clustered heap
due to pressure that was thrust on me
Trust me its unusual when everything is beautiful,
but kiddies on the street are singing
hooks to all the tunes I do.
Dudes up to in boozer yea they knew it too.
Spend a day with me you'll see my life is like a musical.
hmm that's Sarcasm, barely used at all
a harsh spasm and can't fathom a use at all

Track Name: Warning Thing
Woke up in my warm bed! with a sore head!
spinnin from that horse legs!
Smoking on that courgette!
Gizzy Thick skinned like Gortex
Different rappers
on my dick - Durex
Gullyfied, Southern fried
With them sullen eyes
Only seeing red
Like I'm Colour blind
You can't mistake me for some other guy
I'm the one said fuck your life
Gizzy style duck and dive
Rum committee
Here to make you bop this evening
we won't stop until we toppling a non believer
There's Movies that were gonna be in
Boobies that we wanna squeeze n truly
We got groupies that would box ya teeth in
So don't book us for some shitty pub in Bognor regis
they show us love
From Hong Kong to Costa Rica
That's cos were solid with the
Constant heaters
If you aint bollocks
You can Holla if you want a feature
I'm swift so you wont
Ever See me strike
When I hit
Not Even officers
Could read my rights
Got it cracking
Cos I'm sick of these impostor rappers
Most are keyboard warriors
With postures like Velocoraptors
Pulling up
In the Camo truck
I'm with a army
at the offie picking ammo up
Bags on my shoulder
Strapped like a soldier
6 pack revolvers
pissy like ammonia
Wash you smelly fannys
With a leather shammy
and ill be Rappin like a baddie
till I Get a grammy
I wasn't born of any normal shit
The first person that I saw was the abortionist
The first word from my jaws was prolly your a prick
Watch us Storming up u morons
If were cornered in
you best Approach with caution Its a warning ting
Track Name: Yareeaha

Stomp heads, chop necks,
Yareeaha what's next
Leg Drops, chess box,
Knees pop, dogs legs X2

Verse 1

You got a wooden scowl that All these pussys wouldn't doubt
You should look out,
have you looking backwards like a woodland owl,
Go to 50 places
Break ya neck in 50 places
Its the Giz he is abrasive,
But the difference he don't stage it,
He don't slave it
Its a risk I'm into take it
Now cos me and this is Integrated, vindicated
fiddling with my money
is a payslip
withhold the wages
going postal on vocation
Put the 9 to 5 like its a day-shift
Bombing em, phenomenon
Move like broke foreigners
Sin like King Solomon
Smooth like Smokey Robinson
on it then, ill twist ya limbs
Until it clicks, and split ya shins
With scissor kicks until you friggin dicks admit you didn't win


Dusting off the cobwebs
Kids are sleepin' then its cot death
Cos its rotten how I clock them
And their Knees pop like a dogs leg
You acting like you monsters - no-ones seen it like its Loch-Ness
Exposing You vaginas like some panties that are crotch-less
Boxing you casually,
rock you with jabs and be stomping you rapidly
foot to the floor,
bombing your family
rockets and cavalry
oh the humanity
Pushing for war
Lost with insanity,
stopping for salarys
poppin them valaries
Lookin for more
bars that I wrote should get hung in the gallery,
fuckin with Gary get
Booked in the morgue
Track Name: The Untold (Bonus)
Verse 1

My philosophy is
fuck shit up
short distance with velocity
Like One inch punch
The only answer to Atrocity
Is Trust in us
And ill be Bothering authority
till they become defunct
I slumped some
And dump like Dums dums
sunk and cupped rums I clutched
With numb thumbs
I Punched and Bumped mugs
jumped and run slums
With thugs and young guns
For funds in Lump sums
Done - City to the sticks
Just Like Brighton rock
Sculpting out a sound
Like I Chiseled down the writers block
Its Light work
Like I'm signing on
My brand'll leave impressions
If I press it while the Iron hot
the Science of
Experience where letters form
Metaphysics in these
Multi-layered Metaphors
Mentally i'm venomous
I Disrespect the law
Cos, if I aint getting mine
Then I'm getting yours


an untold adventure
That unfolds and gets ya
That Gut feeling
That'll come scold ya centre,
I cut throats to end a
Mugs show then enter
An untold adventure

Verse 2

My philosophy is
Fuck shit up
And My skills are standing Solidly
You must adjust
The only answer to this bollocks be
To cluster up
Because you mugs aint got a thing
on the Illustrious uh
Significantly iller with a signature sound its,
Gizzy I go realer, like gorillas and pound fists.
The Villain in town with
the villagers round him
You'd have to visit hell
Just to see who I'm Down with
You loud pricks
display of ignorance is astounding,
Dumbfound em leave em all fi dead
Like Nostalgics
modern day version of
Lit torch and Pitchfork
The Lights go out and puts a cease
On ya shit talk
The lights come back that's the ignorance ignored
Or dealt with in a shitty manner I aint wish for.
In a shitty manner I aint wish for
Its Inner city manors to the sticks

(Chorus) X2