You’re sitting at the dinner table. Your kid looks at a plate of lukewarm broccoli, shrugs, and says, "Eh, six-seven." Then they do this weird thing with their hands—palms up, moving them up and down like they’re weighing two invisible invisible bags of groceries.
You’re confused. Honestly, most people are.
If you've spent any time on TikTok or Google Discover lately, you've seen it. It’s the 6-7 trend. It’s everywhere. It’s in middle school hallways, NBA press conferences, and even made it into an episode of South Park.
But what actually is it? Is it a height thing? A secret code? Or just another layer of "brainrot" that makes adults feel a hundred years old? Let's get into what’s actually happening behind the screen.
Where did 6-7 even come from?
Most viral trends have a "patient zero." For 6-7, it’s a bit of a messy family tree. It basically started with a Philadelphia rapper named Skrilla.
In late 2024, Skrilla dropped a track called "Doot Doot (6 7)." The song has this repetitive, almost hypnotic hook where he just says "six-seven" over and over. Now, Skrilla himself has been kinda vague about what the numbers actually mean. In some interviews, he says it refers to a block in Philly—67th Street. In others, he says it just popped into his head.
However, the internet does what the internet does: it took those two numbers and ran in a completely different direction.
The LaMelo Ball connection
The trend really started cooking when sports editors on TikTok began using Skrilla's song as background music for basketball highlights. Specifically, they used it for LaMelo Ball.
Why him? Because the guy is exactly 6 feet, 7 inches tall.
The "6-7" in the song synced perfectly with Ball making a flashy play or celebrating on the court. It became a shorthand way to identify with him. If you saw a video of a guy who was tall, shifty, and had a bit of swagger, people would just comment "6-7."
Enter the "67 Kid" and Taylen Kinney
If Skrilla provided the soundtrack and LaMelo provided the face, then Taylen "TK" Kinney and a kid named Maverick Trevillian provided the "vibe."
Kinney, a high school basketball star at Overtime Elite, went viral for a video where he was rating a Starbucks drink. Instead of giving it a normal score, he sorta wobbled his hands and said it was a "6, 7." It was weird. It was catchy.
Then came Maverick, now known globally as the "67 Kid." He was filmed at an amateur basketball game, absolutely screaming "SIX SEVEN!" while doing a specific hand gesture. That was the tipping point. Once that video hit, the phrase stopped being about basketball and started being about everything.
What does 6-7 actually mean in 2026?
Here’s the thing that drives parents and teachers crazy: it doesn't really mean anything.
By the time a trend hits this level of saturation, the original meaning is basically gone. It’s what linguists call "semantic bleaching." The words have been washed of their original intent.
Today, if a kid says "6-7," they might mean:
- "It’s okay." Like, a 6 or 7 out of 10. Mediocre. Mid.
- "I’m tall" or "That guy is tall."
- "I'm part of the joke." This is the biggest one.
Honestly, it’s a shibboleth. That’s just a fancy way of saying it’s a secret handshake. If you say "6-7" and your friend laughs, you’re both in the "in-group." If your teacher looks at you like you’ve lost your mind, the joke worked.
"It’s a burst of energy that spreads and connects people long before anyone agrees on what it actually means." — Dictionary.com on naming "67" the 2025 Word of the Year.
The dark theories (and why they're mostly wrong)
Whenever something goes viral among kids, the "Satanic Panic" or "Hidden Meaning" crowd shows up. You might have seen some YouTube deep dives claiming 6-7 is a police code.
Specifically, people point to 10-67, which some claim is a code for a dead body.
While Skrilla’s lyrics are gritty and definitely talk about street life, the Philadelphia Police Department has actually gone on record saying they don't even use that code. It’s a classic case of the internet trying to find deep, dark lore where there’s mostly just a catchy beat.
There are also theories about dice games or ancient numerology. Don't buy it. These kids aren't studying medieval gambling; they're scrolling through Reels.
🔗 Read more: Why a Map With State Names Still Breaks Our Brains
Why 6-7 is different from "Skibidi" or "Rizz"
You’ve probably just finished learning what rizz means, and now you have to deal with this.
Unlike rizz (which is just short for charisma) or sigma (which describes a personality type), 6-7 is an interjection. It’s more like "Wassup!" from the 90s or "21" from a few years back. It’s a verbal tic.
It’s also surprisingly versatile. I’ve seen people use it to describe:
- Their test scores (a 67% is now a "6-7" L).
- The time of day (meeting at 6:07).
- Their age (if they're 67, though that's rare for TikTok).
Is the trend dying?
In the world of social media, everything dies. But 6-7 has shown weird staying power. Usually, a meme lasts two weeks. This has been a dominant force for over a year.
Why? Because it’s easy. You don't need to be funny or creative to participate. You just need to say two numbers and move your hands.
Schools have started banning the phrase because it’s so disruptive. Imagine trying to teach algebra and every time you write the number 6, the entire back row erupts into a "6-7!" chant. It’s a nightmare for classroom management, which—let’s be real—only makes it funnier for the kids.
Actionable insights for the "confused adult"
If you're trying to navigate this without looking like you’re trying too hard, here’s the move.
- Don't try to use it. Nothing kills a trend faster than a "cool dad" using it at the wrong time. Unless your goal is to make your kid cringe so hard they never say it again (which is actually a solid strategy).
- Recognize the gesture. The hand motion is key. If you see the palms-up "weighing" motion, that’s the 6-7 signal.
- Understand the "6-1" variant. There's already a spin-off called "6-1" (pronounced "seeks-wahn"). It’s basically the same thing but for people who want to be "different."
- Keep it in perspective. It’s not a gang sign, and it’s not a sign that your kid’s brain is melting. It’s just the 2026 version of "Whatcha doin'?" or "Don't have a cow, man."
The best thing you can do is wait. Eventually, another number or a nonsensical word will come along, and 6-7 will be relegated to the "remember when" bin of internet history.
Until then, if someone asks you how your day was and you're feeling just okay? You know what to say.
Six-seven.