Everything you
might want to ask.

The album 67 by Perfect State is a song-by-song love letter to the global 67 movement. Different tracks honor different parts of the story: Skrilla's origin track, TK Kinney's rating system, Maverick Trevillian's viral moment, the schools that tried to ban it, and the worldwide community that adopted it. The full origin story is on the /67 page.

Eight. In order: 1) 67 Kid, 2) TK 67, 3) Mr. 67, 4) Page 67, 5) 67 in Heaven, 6) How It Started, 7) 67 Around the World, 8) 6, 7… 8. Total runtime: 20 minutes 32 seconds.

Spotify (67 on Spotify), YouTube Music (music.youtube.com), and Amazon Music (music.amazon.com/albums/B0GQNRP2MJ).

Yes. Every track on '67' is about the 67 movement in some way. But it isn't a narrative concept album with a single storyline. Each track is its own angle on the phenomenon: a person, a moment, a feeling.

The hater-response track. They said it's 2026 and 67 is over. Nah. It's 2026-7. A short, punchy answer to everyone who said the wave had peaked. Full story →

A K-pop-charged anthem about the 67 hand sign itself: palms up, palms down, the global gesture. The song that turns the choreography into the chorus. Full story →

Yes, entirely in Spanish. It's the Latin-pop / reggaetón companion to "67 (The Sign)", written for the Latin-American 67 community. Name-checks Buenos Aires, Bogotá, Asunción, Lima, La Habana, Dominicana, México, San Juan, Santiago, La Paz, Houston, Miami. Full story →

A quieter, introspective single about the moment 67 first reached your timeline. The song asks the listener directly: did it find you yet? Full story →

The forever anthem. Don't ask where it came from, don't ask where it leads. 67 is 67. Written for everyone who never needed it explained. Full story →

"67" doesn't have one fixed meaning. It started as Skrilla's Philly block on the drill track Doot Doot (67) (late 2024). Through Taylen "TK" Kinney's deadpan "six… seven" coffee rating, it became a way to rate anything ("this is fine, this is whatever"). Through Maverick Trevillian's viral AAU game scream, it became a hand sign and a joyful exclamation. By mid-2025, "67" was simultaneously a song, a rating, a hand sign, and a vibe. The fact that it doesn't have a single locked-in meaning is part of why it spread.

Real name Jemille Edwards. A Philadelphia drill rapper. His track Doot Doot (67) (released late 2024) is where the "67" phenomenon started. He was repping his block, 67th Street.

Taylen "TK" Kinney is a basketball player from Newport, Kentucky who joined Overtime Elite (OTE) in Atlanta and signed with the University of Kansas. In March 2025, in response to a teammate asking him to rate a drink, he replied "six… seven" with a small hand wave. The clip went viral and turned 67 into a universal rating system.

Maverick "Mav" Trevillian is the kid known as "the 67 Kid". At an AAU basketball game in March 2025 a camera turned to him and he absolutely went off, arms in the air, screaming "67!" The clip went viral and made the 67 hand sign instantly recognizable across the world. He's from Maryland.

Both palms face up the entire time. The hands move in opposition (one rises while the other lowers, then they swap), like you're weighing two options on an invisible scale. That weighing motion is the entire gesture. The original "six… seven" coffee-rating clip had exactly that vibe: hands gently weighing, deciding nothing, landing on 67. The sign carries the same spirit: visible indecision rendered as a tiny piece of choreography.

No. The internet invented dozens of theories about "secret meanings" of 67, including police codes, dead-body codes, and gang affiliations. Skrilla's actual answer when asked has been: "It's my block." 67 has no inherent gang meaning. The hand sign and rating system are the kid-friendly cultural layer that grew on top of the original drill track.

Because every classroom worldwide would lose its mind when the teacher said "turn to page 67" in any textbook. By mid-2025 the phenomenon was global. Schools in Brazil, the UK, Australia, the Philippines, and the US all reported the same chaos. Banning it predictably made it more popular (the Streisand effect at work). Most teachers ended up laughing about it eventually.

Very much yes. As of May 2026 it's experiencing a third wave that's bigger than the first two combined. The first wave was the original 2024 drill-track-into-meme cycle. The second was the 2025 Maverick / TK / hand-sign explosion. The third is happening right now and it has pulled in older listeners, more global markets, and more languages than 67 ever reached before. The major drivers: (1) Brazil's "20+20+20+7" meme, popularized by TikTok creator Laurinha, where the bit is theatrical math-class counting that lands on "six seven" as the punchline. The audio has been reused in thousands of contexts and made 67 a Brazilian phenomenon all over again. (2) Russian artist Gazan released "67 (Six Seven)" in February 2026, a club track that writes English phonetics in Russian script to make the hook universal across languages. It has racked up tens of millions of plays on TikTok and YouTube Shorts. (3) On May 3, 2026, J-Hope from BTS posted a 15-second TikTok performing the Brazilian "20 plus 20 plus 20 plus 7" trend (white shirt, jeans, casual lip-sync, hand gestures), which went immediately viral and pushed 67 into the K-pop fan base in a way it hadn't reached before. (4) Perfect State released the K-pop single 67 (The Sign) on April 26, 2026, right in the middle of all of it. The hand sign is back in classrooms. Schools are losing their minds again. We are delighted.

Honest answer: it's a tightly-themed twenty-minute pop record about an internet meme. As an attempt to take something genuinely improbable seriously enough to score it, we think it lands. As a chin-stroking auteur statement, no. We didn't write one of those. It is also, by its own internal rating system, a 6-7. By its own rating system that means everything to us.

Each one is the best at a specific job. Mr. 67 is the funniest. 67 in Heaven is the prettiest. 67 Around the World is the biggest. 67 Kid is the one we'd put on first if you'd never heard the project before. The actual outlier in the data, though: "6, 7… 8", the 1:39 lullaby that closes the album, is by far our highest-like-ratio track on TikTok. Probably because nobody had ever made a 67 lullaby before, and people kept saving it as the soundtrack for sleepy / end-of-day clips. We did not see it coming. We made the quietest thing on the album and the algorithm ran with it.

Yes, and probably soon. The next thing won't be about 67. We're not married to the bit. Perfect State exists to make music that matches the moment, and 67 was the moment for a year and change. The next moment will get its own record. We don't know what it is yet, and that's part of the fun.

No. We genuinely love the 67 movement and the people who built it. The songs are real songs. The hand sign is a real hand sign. We're writing about it the way Frankie Valli wrote about doo-wop and the Ramones wrote about being bored: the subject is silly to outsiders and entirely earnest to insiders. We're insiders.

The system has one rating. It's 6-7 (as in six to seven, which is the whole joke: it can't even commit to one number). The genius of the system is that it works for everything: meals, weather, philosophical movements, your day, the actual quality of the music you're listening to. Once you stop pretending to have nuanced opinions about everything you encounter, life gets noticeably easier. Treat that as either a joke or unsolicited life advice. Both are correct.

Unironically: yes, with a footnote. The way 67 traveled from a Philadelphia drill ad-lib to a global hand sign in eighteen months is a legitimate case study in how culture moves now: bottom-up, language-agnostic, immune to top-down marketing. Plenty of academic writing dismisses things like this and shouldn't. We will allow you to throw the sign up at the end as a flourish.

When there's something worth selling, yes. We're not interested in slapping a logo on a t-shirt and calling it a drop. The email list will know first. The list also exists for other things: secret tracks, early album previews, the occasional behind-the-scenes thing. It's a quiet list. We hold it to a high bar.

By track 8 the album has said its piece. A lullaby felt more honest than another anthem. The title ends on 8 on purpose: six, seven, eight is the count that walks you out the door. (And, as the previous answer notes, it's somehow our biggest track on TikTok.)

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