Top 10 Best Lloyd Banks Guest Verses Of All Time
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Ranking the Top 10 Best Lloyd Banks Guest Verses of All Time

Ever since storming the rap game in 2002 as part of 50 Cent’s Guerilla Unit, Lloyd Banks has been long hailed as the punchline king by hip hop heads.

From his very first appearances on the legendary mixtapes, we knew we were witnessing something special right out the gate. After prominent features on 50’s Get Rich or Die Tryin’ and G-Unit’s debut album Beg for Mercy, Banks dropped The Hunger for More in 2004 and achieved chart-topping success.

But it hasn’t been all roses for the South Jamaica, Queens MC. Known for his legendary comebacks, Banks has always been one to sit back and regroup before hitting the rap game with more of his punchlines. He did it in 2010 with the successful H.F.M. 2 (The Hunger for More 2) and he’s doing it again now with The Course of the Inevitable series.

Along the way, he’s shown up on some of your favourite rappers’ tracks and bodied them. It’s no surprise we crowned him one of the best rappers in the game right now.

From Fabolous’ “Mo Brooklyn, Mo Harlem, Mo Southside” to “Christian Dior Denim Flow” and “Banks Victory”, here are the top 10 best Lloyd Banks guest verses of all time.

10. Fabolous ft. Lloyd Banks & Vado – “Mo Brooklyn, Mo Harlem, Mo Southside”

Released: April 21, 2011

Album: The Soul Tape

Producer: DR Period

Uhh, money's the focus, ashtray's to the top a hundred roaches
Pretty head on hotel sofas in this town of dreams and hopers
Don't approach us, watch the common stretchers lead to comas
Sold out shows and Louie shoulders, way I rap I need a bonus
Who can hold us? The OG rollers New York city’s coldest
Sour diesel, weed aromas, numb the casualties of soldiers
My position, remains the same while niggas change and switching
Politics from famous living, heavy chains and brainless women
Place to swim in, 22 spinning leather grace the linen
If you find a space forgive 'em, gangstas can't erase the sinning
Ducking po po, the 2k winners Banks, Vado, and Loso
Brooklyn, Queens, to Harlem .44 slip around here you'll be promo
I'm fresh, designer down to sweats, prolly grip the thousand x
My style what's next, boujie bitches hound next to the housing 'jects
Life reflects from big diamonds domino with calmer flow
Feel like I'm popping shit rhyming, homicide every time I go
Thousand dollar tipping, Impala whipping recline and go
Pounding out your sister then give her pound, time to roll

9. Joe Budden ft. Fabolous, Lloyd Banks & Royce da 5’9″ – “Remember the Titans”

Released: October 26, 2010

Album: Mood Muzik 4: A Turn 4 The Worst

Producer: J. Cardim

Acid out the baggie, this is more than dope, flawless flow
Fucking off a sign every horoscope done wore my robes
Strapping up the corner cold, critical
Unquestioned, my opponents know
I shoot like Kapono, watch me own the show
Comatose, toasted, getting money while I roam the coast
Stones and boats, mansion homes and hoes
I deserve ‘em both, overdose
Time to earn my votes, watch me turn the volts
Voltage through a meter, this electric chair, danger
Yeah, I see ya, now make way 'fore it turn to diarrhea
Hear a microphone will give you 3 of everything I wear yeah
Models by the pair, swear, bottles, private Lear, steer
Style that's outta here, rare, thousands by the chair, square
Sleep with me, you came here, war with me is scary
Get beat silly trying to lamp here, better bring your fury heat
I got a drop damp here, niggas try me barely
No one breathes, I need an ant's ear, pressure's necessary
Got my mind on the cheddar, kill my haters together
Bury 'em in abundance and starve their families stomach’s
Paper come in my thumbage, brand new fifties and hundreds
On point, just like the drum is, I’m warning them baby mothers
Got the hunger of a broke rapper
Kill you while I’m rolling up then smoke after
Catch you at your show, snatch ya, empty out the dough faster
Bentley off the scene, magnum Mo' splasher, four packer
Southside nigga spitting coke at ya!

8. Kanye West ft. Lloyd Banks, Pusha T, Ryan Leslie, Kid Cudi, & John Legend – “Christian Dior Denim Flow”

Released: October 1, 2010

Album: G.O.O.D. Fridays

Producer: Kanye West

Ugh, handcraft material, champagne for cereal
Shawty stole my heart, criminal, my lucky charm, ugh
Fly clothes and Lear shows take the stuff we on
Stuff all my problems in that bong, and I'm puffin' strong
I been locked in my way of thinkin', now my cuffs are gone
Must've been the liquor talkin, I'm beggin' the cups, c'mon (C'mon)
Might come off as irregular, I come in custom form
T-G-I-F, GT breeze, my hustler's poem (Yeah)
My sound's full-grown, reminds me of my favorite chronic (Kush)
Ball like a SuperSonic, make the haters vomit (Ugh!)
Nigga, make some money ‘fore you make a comment
I meant to snap a while ago, but who knows where the time went?
Probably dime chicks, whips with a Diddy
Now I'm back like a nine-milli, running New York City
See me clearly through the storm, the world's mine
Sits pretty in my palm, Chandon as we continue on

7. The Alchemist ft. Lloyd Banks – “Bangers”

Released: June 29, 2004

Album: 1st Infantry

Producer: The Alchemist

You now looking at the hood meal ticket seven thou on my wrist
It's kinda hard to keep the balance with this, it keeps the challengers pissed
I vacate to different islands and twist
And back home where the violence exist, nines, silencers, fifths
We buy mileage as gifts as well as man's best friend
And I don't own no rottweillers and pits
It's getting extremely hard for the man to roam
With little kids putting this picture on the camera phone
Shit change now that the cameras on
A bitch will jeopardize the marriage to fuck you when they man is gone
These niggas rambling on about the paper that they getting stop it
I got more money than you in my little pocket
Yeah, I'm stingy so it's stretch long, with G-Unit sweats on
Thread needle to Teflon, Des' Eagle and vest on
Cause everybody ain't enthused
That's your name's around about good news, fuck you!

6. Young Buck ft. Lloyd Banks & D-Tay – “Prices On My Head”

Released: August 24, 2004

Album: Straight Outta Cashville

Producer: Crown

My eyes low, hydro leakin' out that tahoe
I know g-unit's them niggas im'a ride fo'
Nah hoe, I ain't stuntin', nuthing that these niggas say
Fuck the rap, I can get ya' monkey ass good today
Ain't nobody picked me up, when I was pinned down
I'm double checkin, 'for I leave outta my crib now
Holdin that 40 on me, sunk in the seat
Cuz niggas feel comfortable when they get in drunk with the heat
I'm ridin' while ya dirty, cuz they gunnin for my top
I ain't duckin and dodgin, I'm only runnin from the cops
Spendin grand by the grand by hundred on my watch
Just got another buddy, and it holds a 100 shots
U never had a role model, cuz he was in a box
So I'm up in the club with eather, a heater or a house
Everyday there's another nigga bleedin on the block
But we ridin' with them burners on, even when it's hot

5. 50 Cent ft. Eminem & Lloyd Banks – “Don’t Push Me”

Released: February 6, 2003

Album: Get Rich or Die Tryin’

Producer: Eminem

I done lost my bigger nigga and I didn't cry
Too young to understand the consequences of a man
Living a lie, I gotta get that money
I'll be damned if I'm bummy
Gotta watch my back around these niggas cause they funny
20 years of watching my mama tears got me heated, heavily weeded
Smoking that bong cause I need it
These niggas don't want me balling, they want me buried
Bogged in the dirt from shots flurried
Laying with bugs under my shirt
I got plans to hop up in that Hummer
Cause I'm a stunner, I sit back and wonder
When them angels gonna call my number
Under my chest is a heart of a lion
I ain't lying, bounty hunters got me flying
With my iron, high as a giant
I'm running from nothing, my stomach is touching what I'm clutching
To give you more than a concussion, end of discussion
My blood is colder so I'm bolder
Hennessy and soda, hood on my shoulder
Look in the mirror, I see a soldier

4. Eminem ft. Lloyd Banks, 50 Cent, & Cashis – “You Don’t Know”

Released: November 7, 2006

Album: Eminem Presents: The Re-Up

Producer: Eminem

Enough holdin' back the steam, Em let off a magazine
Dappadon Cappa Queens, mixed in with Ca$his creams
Started off with half a dream, developed into what you see
Tellin' ain't my cup of tea, can't tell I'm a fuckin' G?
I'm on automatic when I'm at it, start static
And you splattered, shit shattered, I'm a walkin' bitch magnet
Spit it how I live it, live it all-way to the limit
And I'm always on my pivot for my digits, you dig it?

3. 50 Cent ft. Lloyd Banks – “The Banks Workout”

Released: June 1, 2002

Album: 50 Cent Is the Future

Producer: Just Blaze

These niggas don't really want war (nah)
They just walk around frontin' 'cause I walk around stuntin'
Why you think the long pump is in the trunk for? (Yeah)
If you really want something, we can show up at your front door
I know my history—my family tree done said "master" (Uh-huh)
And fuck livin' positive 'cause negativity spreads faster (Yeah)
A celebrity has to bulletproof his car
'Cause big-heads come flyin' through your door like Casper (Woo)
I'm smokin' out the jar (Jar) scopin' out the bar
Distracted—see shorty' breast pokin' out the bra (Uh-huh)
Not the type to go spark metal and—
Start thinkin' you gangsta 'cause you hit a parked yellow van (Yeah)
Act hard but your heart made of marshmallows, man
Talk tough until you get cuffed and start tellin'—damn
Every day, I got a new bitch, and when I'm done with her—
It'll look like she dived headfirst into Cool Whip (Goddamn)
You only gon wind up dead tryna prove shit
I put chalk around your head like a pool stick (Yeah)
I gotta have bucks on the waist
I'm hungry like a South African with flies stuck to his face (Waa)
Catch Banks in a truck full of bass (Uh-huh)
Remember, I'm a bachelor—the four or five ducks gotta space
You could either get bust or get your ass jumped
The only trigger you touch is on the gas pump
I got my own personal slave—she really got a curfew
Cook and clean for the kid like Celie in "Color Purple" (Uh-huh, uh)
I know you wanna pop me, but— (But)
If I hit you first, the exit wound gon' be the size of a hockey puck (Ah)
Fuck, I really hold the rubber
I send sparks at you, and I don't mean Omillio or Bubba
I'm aimin' for a video or cover, huge tour-buses
A pound and a Philly, hold the smuggler
G-Unit's what's up right now
The Gucci cloth is on a Newport sign upside-down
You gotta come a lil' harder—nigga, you wear jerseys?
Well, mine is a throwback, and yours is a Starter (Hahaha)
You still gotta beg a ho (Ho)
And you mad 'cause you blowin' on oregano
You niggas'll never blow
Anyone to step in my ring is brave
I don't know a thing about hairstyling, but I can make a finger weave (Err)
Short stay, leave her butt in the telly
Lace up the beef-and-broccolis, peanut butter-and-jelly
I'm about to get this deal (Uh-huh), and shorty know
Thats why she foamin' out the grill like a Alka-Seltzer pill
I ain't loud around a snitch (Nah), I don't crowd around a bitch (Nah)
The jumpsuit match with the Carolina kicks
I been sick since niggas was on Harold Miner's dick
I could call up a chick and put a child around her lips (Woo)
Niggas can't stand the fact that I'm real (He's off, nigga)
I kidnap the queen from the castle and put her back on the pill
Gimme Barbie at her best (Uh-huh), Bacardi at the chest (Uh-huh)
I'm similar to the young Marcus Garvey at the desk
Used to have to push up; now, I hardly got to press
Got two guns, and both lead to cardiac arrest (Ugh)
My success got suckers salty (Salty)
Blowin' steam like a cup of coffee
Click, pow! Get these fuckers off me

2. Obie Trice ft. Lloyd Banks, 50 Cent, & Eminem – “We All Die One Day”

Released: September 23, 2003

Album: Cheers

Producer: Eminem

But as long as I'm here I'm gonna grab checks
And make my cash stretch longer than giraffe necks
Poverty'll make your ass bet
My words touch niggas in jail, make them wanna finish they last set
They say you live by the gun, you die by the next nigga gun
If that's the case, then get a bigger one
You don't think I pack the pump 'cause I'm out the hood?
That's a stereotype, like everybody that's Black can jump
I'm in the white mink, the fabric is done
Got rings like Mike, Bird, Magic, and them
Out in Dallas to the Palace where the Mavericks is from
Living lavish I'm established, so the cabbage'll come
I'm in the clouds, you don't see me on the train
I travel first class, you ain't even got a TV on your plane
You should be easy on my name 'cause I ain't going back and forth
Your boss and your captain soft (BITCH!)

1. 50 Cent ft. Lloyd Banks – “Banks Victory”

Released: August 1, 2002

Album: No Mercy, No Fear

Producer: Puff Daddy, Stevie J

I got a industry gangstress, that argues, and steams the reefer
And flip when I call her bitch, like she Queen Latifah
Not all the vehicle's is long enough to stash the street sweeper
This shit can get uglier than the Master P sneaker
We slidin through the ruckus, with Prada on the chuckus
So the spring break hoes home from college wanna fuck us
I ain't here to drop knowledge on you suckas
I sic Rottweilers on you fuckas, cops followin' to cuff us
Top dollars to discuss this, whole lot of zeros
When it comes to paper, I blow a soul out a hero
I'ma break before I lay floor buried
Besides, every rapper ain't a star, and every plad ain't Burberry
You can't tame Lloyd, smokin' by the big screen
Changin' the channel, looks like I'm playin' the Game Boy
I know the watch botherin' ya vision
But reach, and I'll put a dot on ya head like it's part of your religion
Why party with a pigeon?
I'm blowin' a 10 cause Bush handin' flyers for a party in a prison
I'm in the Gucci vest, with the green and red straps
I'm the last rapper to scare niggas since Craig Mack
Now every morning's a fast start
And there ain't problem gettin' dressed 'cause my closet got more aisles than Pathmark
Run, move startin' a wave
Or leave with 12 shells in ya mouth like a carton of eggs
I'm the young pimp pardon my age
I don't got long hair but if I did she be partin' my braids
Niggas find what club they at
Take 'em with us, and run a train on 'em like a subway map
Your advance is grey Acura
See these record labels got most artists gettin' fucked like the gay rapper
I go to college on the tour
I'm goin' down in history nigga, next to Wallace and Shakur
I keep ya ammo clean, text polished in the drawer
Camera's by the hamper that mine into the floor
By now, you probably heard of me
Fresh outta surgery, flashy as a fuck, you gon' have to murder me
Burglary, I'm leavin' with your Nikes burgundy, white tee: burgundy
You match now, back down
Niggas love to hate you, but love you when you disappear
Catch me on the boat with weed smoke and fishin' gear
Heavy when I toke, C-notes from different years
Bezzy and the rope, remotes and liftin chairs
You ain't rich, but we glad to snatch ya
I send cars to your crib like I'm a cab dispatcher
You better off with the stupid guys, lookin' for a coupe to drive
You ain't gettin nuttin' but ya french fries supersized
It's a damn shame y'all still local
I'm in a million dollar studio layin my vocals, nigga
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