Kids yelling “six seven” in the hallway aren’t doing math. In Gen Alpha slang, “67” (pronounced “six seven,” not “sixty-seven”) is a viral, almost-meaningless in‑joke that spread from TikTok into classrooms, sports, and everyday conversation.
What “67” means in slang
In current youth slang, “67” is:
- A mostly meaningless interjection. It’s a number you can blurt out as a response to almost anything.
- Brainrot slang. It sits in the same bucket as “skibidi,” “Ohio,” or “gyatt” — intentionally dumb, loopable, low-effort humor.
- Sometimes read as “so‑so” or “whatever.” When paired with a weighing-hand gesture (both palms up, alternating up and down), kids use it like “eh, could go either way.”
Ask, “How was the test?” and you might get “Six seven” with that shruggy hand motion. Ask, “What’s 5 + 5?” and you might still get “Six seven.” That mismatch is the joke: it’s deliberately wrong and context-free.
How “67” is used day to day
Common patterns you’ll see:
- As a universal answer. “How tall are you?” “Six seven.” “What time is it?” “Six seven.” “Who’s better, them or you?” “Six seven.”
- Whenever the digits 6 and 7 appear. If a math problem or jersey number includes 67, kids will exaggerate the reaction: chanting “six seven,” doing the gesture, or turning it into a bit.
- As a vibe check. With the balancing gesture, it can loosely mean “kinda mid,” “in the middle,” or “not sure.”
- As a social signal. Using it correctly — tone, timing, hand motion — shows you’re “in” on current Gen Alpha culture.
There is no standard, fixed definition. Flexibility is the point; the meme works because it can be dropped anywhere and still land with peers.
Where “67” came from: Skrilla, basketball, and edits
The slang traces back to a drill track and then to basketball meme culture.
- The song. In late 2024, Philadelphia rapper Skrilla released a track titled Doot Doot (6 7). In the hook he raps a line that ends with “6‑7” right as the beat drops.
- Basketball edits. Creators started pairing that audio with highlight clips of NBA players, especially LaMelo Ball, who is listed at 6 feet 7 inches tall. The pairing of “6‑7” the lyric and 6'7" the height made the number sticky.
- TK and Overtime Elite. Taylen “TK” Kinney, a guard in the Overtime Elite league, leaned into the bit. In one widely shared clip, he jokingly ranks a Starbucks drink as “six, seven.” He kept repeating it in interviews and content, earning the nickname “Mr. 6‑7” and even putting the phrase on a canned water brand.
By that point, “six seven” had moved beyond the original bar. It was a sound and a catchphrase, not just a lyric.
The “67 Kid” and the hand gesture
The meme hit a new tier of visibility with a youth basketball clip.
- The viral moment. In spring 2025, a YouTube video from creator Cam Wilder showed a young boy, Maverick Trevillian, courtside at a basketball game. He jumps up, shouts “six seven!” and does an exaggerated two‑handed motion: both palms facing up, seesawing up and down like he’s weighing options.
- The nickname. Viewers dubbed him the “67 Kid.” His delivery became the default template: same cadence, same gesture.
- Remixes. Clips of the 67 Kid were clipped, zoomed, distorted, and folded into everything from sports edits to horror‑style “SCP‑067 Kid” parodies.
That physical gesture is now part of the slang. Many kids won’t just say “six seven”; they’ll act it out.
Does “67” secretly stand for something darker?
There are a few deeper or more serious interpretations floating around, mostly tied to the original drill context:
- Police code theory. Some listeners connect “6‑7” in Doot Doot (6 7) to police radio code
10‑67in Philadelphia, used in the context of a death or homicide investigation. In that reading, the line about driving and “6‑7” hints at playing innocent after a shooting or a stolen car. - Street reference. Others read it as a nod to a 67th Street neighborhood the rapper is associated with.
Skrilla himself has said he never locked in a single official meaning for the number. And crucially, by the time “67” reached primary schools and TikTok edits about classroom life, almost no one using it was thinking about police codes or local geography. For most kids, it is not being used as explicit crime slang, a curse, or anything occult — it functions as nonsense comedy.
Claims that saying “six seven” invites a curse, invokes witchcraft, or signals gang activity are not reflected in how the meme actually spreads among school‑age users. Online, kids and teachers describe it as an annoying but ultimately trivial trend.
Why “67” is called brainrot slang
“Brainrot” is a term young people use for content that is:
- Hyper-repetitive
- Low-effort or absurd
- Meant to be watched or repeated on a loop
“67” fits that pattern:
- It’s ultra-portable. Two digits are easy to remember, type, shout, and spam in comments.
- It thrives on confusion. Part of the humor is watching adults, teachers, or older siblings try to decode it and fail.
- It doesn’t reward overthinking. If you look for deep symbolism in everyday usage, you miss the point: it’s supposed to be shallow.
For older generations, a useful comparison is the overuse of “dude,” “whatever,” or “your mom” jokes. Those also annoyed adults, were often semantically empty, and still carried strong peer‑group meaning.
How brands and institutions jumped on “67”
Once a meme crosses from school hallways into mainstream entertainment, marketers follow. “Six seven” has already been referenced by:
- Sports leagues. NBA, WNBA, NFL, and NHL clips have used the catchphrase or gesture in commentary, highlight captions, or blooper videos.
- Fast food chains. Some chains have run short‑term promotions with prices like 67‑cent wings or nugget deals pegged to the meme.
- Games and shows. Mobile and live‑service games have teased “67” as emotes or cosmetic references, and animated TV has used it as shorthand for kids being consumed by online trends.
At the same time, some schools have tried to ban the gesture or the number in class, treating it as a disruption in the same category as dabbing or bottle‑flipping in past years.
Why kids say “67” instead of other slang
“67” isn’t replacing every other term, but it does scratch a few specific itches for Gen Alpha and younger Gen Z:
- It’s safe in most contexts. Unlike explicitly sexual numbers like 69 or drug‑coded numbers like 420, “67” is generally not recognized as inappropriate, even if it annoys adults.
- It travels well. Because it’s just digits, it works across languages. Teens in different countries are using “6‑7” with the same basic joke structure.
- It’s modular. It can be mashed up with other slang (“six‑sendy,” combining 67 with “send it/get sendy”) or replaced by similar number memes like “41” without much friction.
Kids also use it as a kind of linguistic playground: if words are supposed to mean things, then picking a word or number that refuses to settle on a meaning can feel subversive and funny.
What parents and teachers should know
If you’re hearing “six seven” constantly in your house or classroom, a few points help put it in perspective:
- It is overwhelmingly used as nonsense. In most everyday contexts, it’s no more loaded than saying “blah blah” with extra theatrics.
- Context still matters. The original song does describe violence, so playing the unedited track or lyrics may not be appropriate for younger kids, even if the number itself is being used innocently.
- It will probably fade. Number memes are already iterating; “41,” “6‑1,” and “56” are trying to claim their own slice of the same joke format.
- It’s a window into how fast language moves now. A bar in a regional drill track can become a global schoolyard tic within months.
For most adults, the practical move is to treat “67” like any other fleeting meme: set reasonable boundaries if it disrupts class or crosses into bullying, but don’t treat the number itself as dangerous or inherently offensive.
When kids say “six seven” today, they’re not doing numerology or sending coded threats. They’re participating in a shared joke born from a drill track, a few charismatic basketball clips, a viral courtside kid, and the internet’s love of brainless repetition. The meaning is that there isn’t much meaning — and for Gen Alpha, that’s precisely the appeal.