Big Tymin’: A Decade of Nef the Pharaoh

The moment I knew Nef the Pharaoh was a Bay Area icon-in-the-making? It was a balmy Frisco evening during a tribute show for San Jose mega-producer Traxamillion, whose sonic imprints laid the blueprint for the hyphy movement and helped reshape the region’s bass-knocking soundscape, and who passed away in 2022 from a rare form of cancer. Northern California had gathered to mourn with a pantheon of local rap legends in attendance, including Keak Da Sneak, Husalah, P-Lo, Big Rich and Erk tha Jerk, to name those within immediate eyesight. Then, as if conjured by the rap gods, Nef appeared.

The psychedelics-ingesting Vallejo spitter had slid through a side door to surprise the shoulder-to-shoulder crowd with an impromptu set. Someone handed him a mic. He waded through the sweaty drip of bodies to the stage, a cloud of weed smoke hovering above him like a coastal morning fog. He talked his shit, his bleached dreads dangling from beneath a fitted baseball cap. After a song or two, he parted with some heartfelt words, bouncing in the opposite direction he came from as the room split open, granting him passage — while chanting for more. He never looked back. In the following hours, other legends took the stage to pay their respects. But Nef’s presence was the most memorable, supercharging the already-amped room with his Mac Dre-infused energy.

In pulling up to honor Trax, Nef cemented his own status as a Bay Area rap titan. Ten years after his definitive, self-titled EP Nef the Pharoah slapped its way across the Bay, Nef has outpaced many of his peers, releasing eight full-length studio projects, plus nine assorted EPs and comps. Of course, prolific output alone doesn’t equal greatness. But his work ethic and consistency have paid off. He might just be the most underrated Bay Area rapper of his generation. And he’s low-key about it. That’s part of his ethos, too.

A Chosen Disciple

In the summer of ‘15, Neffy stomped through the proverbial rap door with his debut hit, “Big Tymin.’” The Southern-laced single, which later featured a YG and Ty Dolla $ign remix, was both a runaway Bay Area anthem and an homage to Big Tymers, the New Orleans duo of Mannie Fresh and Birdman, who alchemized Cash Money Records into a late-90s music empire by signing then-burgeoning stars like Juvenile, B.G., and an 11-year-old Lil Wayne.

The visuals for “Big Tymin’” introduced Nef’s hybridized brand of Bay Area street rap (think Andre Nickatina’s weirdness sprinkled with some of E-40’s funk, topped off with Spice 1’s macabre storytelling of deceit, beefs, and headshots) and added a Southernized twang. From a non-descript trap house that resembled the depths of Louisiana, Nef foretold his own prophecy with one of the simplest, most compulsively addictive verses in Bay Area rap history: “Bitch I’m big tymin’, bitch I’m, bitch I’m, bitch I’m big tymin’ (bitch I’m big tymin’!).”

Big Chang — a moniker he received from the late Richmond rapper Johnny Ca$h — would later go on to become a fixture in the West Coast circuit, firing off an array of darkly clouded, smoothly understated bangers like “Old School Hyphy,” “Beat That Chest Up,” “Bling Blaow,” and “Get High.” Collabs with SOB x RBE, G-Eazy, 03 Greedo, and Cardo Got Wangs soon piled up. Being on E-40’s independent label, Sick Wid It, confirmed it: Neffy was a chosen disciple in the temple his forefathers built, the next of kin in a lineage of Bay Area rap royalty. It was a time when the sheen of hyphy had worn off, and newcomers like Heartbreak Gang had arrived as part of an internet-fueled wave of rap artistry. Nef was somewhere in between — a young prodigy who embraced the moment’s trends but also upheld the past. His lyricism was a syrupy dose of drug culture and slick-talking wordplay, all poured into a purple cup and handed to you at a block party you may or may not have been invited to.

It’s hard to define what will become of a rap star the moment they first gleam in the public eye. In my lifetime as a Bay Area rap listener, I’ve seen rappers come and go as surely as the morning tide that cuts against the shores of the San Pablo Bay. There are too many rappers in the region to name; some, it seems, are born pushing mixtapes out of the womb. But rare is the artist who can swim against the current of being famous in the moment and remain. Rarer, still, is the one who can do it with enough foresight to build a vessel for longevity, authenticity, and creative maturation. 

Modeling his vision after his mentor E-40, Nef has taken the entrepreneurial route. In 2016, he introduced Keep It Lit For My Brothers (KILFMB), a record label, clothing brand, and tribute to his fallen friends. In a 2018 interview with Passion of the Weiss, Nef discussed the separation of his craft and his financial goals with the vernacular of a kid in his 20s — but the prescience of someone much older: “... we just consider [ourselves] business partners, not even artists. Just being around E-40 is soaking up intelligence itself, he has so much longevity in the game. It’s like a cheat code, like playing Grand Theft Auto with the cheat codes already put in for you.” 

Everywhere and Nowhere

Nearly a full decade into his career, Nef continues to reach further into his bottomless bag of game. He’s visibly entered a different head space — literally. He shaved off his dreads, revealing his Michael Jordan-circa-1996 dome while summoning one of his biggest musical influences, Birdman. In some ways, he has moved past the Bay Area angles of his youth and is exploring the greater trigonometry of California rap writ large, best evidenced in “Hot Boyz,” a track with Watts’ Greedo, Compton’s Wallie The Sensei, and Sacramento’s ShooterGang Kony. The mafioso soundtrack kicks off with a saucy Nef verse, in which the South Vallejo representative playfully interchanges disparate subject matter, like bounty hunting his opps and watching Disney Channel re-runs.

“Hot Boyz” is the lead single off of Vallejo Playa, Nef’s standout 2024 album that offers a more reflective side of the 30-year-old. Along with my favorite album cover of late — Neffy is posted up on the hood of a Fox Body Mustang 5.0 in front of a liquor shop with neon letters that spell out his name below an arching Vallejo Playa — the 17-song, 47-minute effort is an invigorating Bay Area listen.

Having experienced the violent loss of family members, including his sister and best friend, the rapper delves into moments of motivation (“Don’t Stop”), meditation (“Meant 2 Be”), and straight mobbery (“Mobbin 2”). The youthful veteran retains enough of his former subject matter — references to murder scenes abound — but the tone and pace have mellowed. The full-throttled antagonism of his past is there, but there’s also a layer of calm and introspection. Of healing and regeneration. Well-placed features from regional trendsetters like LaRussell, Seiji Oda, Lil Bean, Yhung T.O., and Scando The Darklord further showcase the Bay’s finesse and elasticity. In 2025, Nef is no longer the neophyte but the mentor.

Nef followed up Vallejo Playa with a beachy, acoustic love album in ChangSzn3 this past January. Most recently, he teamed up with San Francisco battle rapper Frak the Person for the tongue-in-cheek baller’s anthem, “Golf Clap,” among a slew of other singles. He’s also been performing live, sometimes with relatively little fanfare: Earlier this year, I attended the NBA All-Star Game in San Francisco — the first time the NBA’s annual “big ass commercial” has been in the Bay since 2000. Everyone was there: all the rappers, all the Corporate People. While running around, fielding texts about events, I somehow missed a show from Nef and The Team’s Clyde Carson. It’s proof to me that Nef has retained his chameleonic status as an incognito street dude, a Bay Area star who likes to hide away at his family’s ranch in Vacaville. (PSA: don’t ever tell someone from Vacaville who has gold fronts that they aren’t a part of the Bay; they might five-finger slap you — I’ve seen it.) You’re more likely to encounter Nef popping up at a Caribbean jerk pop-up than forcing empty beefs or making TikToks to stay relevant.

Nef is everywhere and nowhere. You might see him, but you most probably won’t. In many ways, he’s the quintessential Bay Area rapper. He’s unafraid to be his weird self — cultivating a loyal listenership, and far too chill to pursue the Hollywood route — yet in doing so, he’s potentially overlooked by the masses. Don’t expect Nef to parade around for your attention. Instead, he might just wiggle in through a back door. Consider yourself lucky if you happen to be in the room.