Stop sleeping on Lloyd Banks, please. The veteran has quietly been releasing quality tracks these last couple years and for proof, look no further than this Hot 97 Funk Flex freestyle from a couple weeks back. He still impressively spits with a hunger and ferocity of an up-and-comer as he touches on his hometown of Queens, his weed habit, and wack rappers.

These bars are the thesis of his machine gun pulpit sermon:

Ayo Flex! I look like I'm left off of "Bad and Boujee"?
I been listenin' these niggas out here soundin' average usually
I'm conditioned, my pen cooperates the tablet knew me
Pay homage! You a Youtube baby, right? Do your research 'bout me
Me! From the land of RIP's I got a T-shirt hobby

Banks hasn't dropped a proper project since 2010's The Hunger for More 2, however, his last couple mixtapes have been solid and he just dropped a new song "Overload" where he sounds rejuvenated over Q Will production. So maybe this means he'll be giving us his fourth studio album some time soon. 

16s of a psychopath
On a whole nother highway by the time the nitro pass
Don't get caught by the castle, the sucker lights'll flash
Blood, sweat & tears to fly, only to cut your lights in half
Don't get your license slashed
Freestylin imagine my writin stash
The hood need a piece, they'll pull your ice in half
Cook in the underground, burn the fuck up by time he drop
Duffel bag my ashes and spray my face on a homi' block
Addicted to the fast life, losing time on the party clock
Media gangsters corny, won't alarm me fatigue army Glock
Light a fire for me, I'll be bombin right back
Surround the White House, they gon have to build a wall around that
Hole poked in the heart of Queens the Colosseum went black
Silence for Prodigy... Never repeat that impact
Clipper got a mind of his own, watch how you approach that
Took my heart out and froze it, choke a rapper with his purse strap
Lavender Gucc' great boots go with the purp' pack
Excellence in my worst rap, presidents get your verse back
But it ain't all 'bout the money, features I could get expensive
We don't use your entrance. Hammers sneak in like Denzel in Fences
Drama's a sentence 'til death do one of us
Think I'm assessed with the victory torches, another rush
So talented in my off time, pen the impossible
Formed replicas built the League of Shadows
Black Ra's Al Ghul, fool
Took on the wisdom Pac passed, Martin and Malcolm too
Hit the world, broke out my podcast, chronic of rocket fuel
Fresh off my vacation back for movies
Ayo Flex! I look like I'm left off of "Bad and Boujee"?
I been listenin these niggas out here soundin average usually
I'm conditioned, my pen cooperates the tablet knew me
Pay homage! You a Youtube baby, right? Do your research 'bout me
Me! From the land of RIP's I got a T-shirt hobby
Flame out the mothafuckin turbo burn the leeches 'round me
Lock and key, impostor free, half of y'all never leave the county
Play with the paper there's metal and plastic for you
Exotic bags for torture, smoke a youngin for my daughter
Icy neck still, probably have to bundle up this quarter
Who knows, maybe Kimora's oral uppercut performers
Twisted thoughts in my head, maybe I'm this out of mind
Crazier triumph may seem, tell me you seen the decline
Any product put out you bringing back, CD on rewind
Easing out my peer, beam me out of time, leave me out there fine
Dreamy eyes define, 'ghini out the grind, greedy minds combined leave me I've declined
Whip the whip, took a dose of winnin got me tipsy quick, hit the strip, roll myself a 50 roll a 50 clip
Hippie shit, old heads hatin don't be a hypocrite
Pop good on a bad day, not a soul out to witness it
Hell in the ghettos air, doubt if you ever felt breeze
I was born in the studio, cut me I bleed in LPs
Personalities multiplying, think i feed off emcees
Triggered by Hot 9-7, now double Ms my main squeeze
Epitomizing grimy, it mixed me out the '90s
Blend of all the top tiers from a corner that's droppin bodies
Murals on the side of the wall, my high society
Any shot you got to being somebody you rock-a-by me
Wrote a album couple days ago, that shit you lack about me
All these mettys got the hood punch drunk, two ounce for alkis
Lotta shit I'm not understandin, all kind of questions for me
Culture lessons, punks need addressin they out here dressin funny
Shorty only bottom in chess, couldn't get checkers from me
Already two albums finesse, that's extra money
Left a life of death experience, how could you humble that?
Mob of preemies can't be serious, shit on your mumble rap
.40 below chain swing like a lumberjack.. Top 5 for fifteen years who's fucking with that... Nigga!

Banks is back like he never. Do yourself a favor and find a download link to his first tape Money In the Bank.