
Dutch 3Times comes from a compelling divide, the quiet of Dillon, South Carolina, meeting the motion of Detroit, and you can hear that tension all over his latest project. One moment, he sounds inward, almost like he is talking to himself in a car parked somewhere after midnight. The next, there is a raw, unfiltered edge that feels pulled from long nights in the city. It is not overly polished, and that works in its favor. Love Lust & Heartbreak is the fourth chapter in his Distant Lover saga, and by this point, he is not performing for approval. He is telling the story the way it felt. His lane is clear here, intimate, story driven hip hop that lands more like conversation than spectacle.
“No Stress,” featuring Neisha Neshae, sets the tone early. The song is less about showing off than trying to stay afloat emotionally, mentally, and romantically. When he repeats, “I just need a little peace, put my mind at ease,” it sounds like someone exhausted by chaos, even if part of him still keeps choosing it. He wants something deeper, asking, “tell me your dreams and your aspirations,” yet he also admits the pull of distraction, desire, and bad decisions. It is messy because the feeling is messy. Neisha’s presence softens the edges without draining the vulnerability.
“Do For Me” shifts the mood completely. This feels like the rebound stage, post breakup, a little reckless, a little too comfortable hiding in distractions. Lines like “can’t forget my problems, but I’m down in bottles” are plainspoken in the best way. He knows exactly what he is doing. The club energy, the casual hookups, the ego lift, it is all there. Still, unresolved feelings sit underneath the surface. This is not celebration. It is coping dressed up for the night.
The 37 second spoken word “Love Lust & Heartbreak Skit” may seem minor at first, but it carries the project’s central question. When he wonders whether love is “the best experience of sex you ever had” or the absence of it, the thought lands with that blunt 2 AM clarity. It is cynical, maybe, but it also frames the album honestly. This project is not trying to solve love. It is trying to make it through the aftermath.
“You Was Mine” is where everything slows down and cuts deeper. The repetition feels deliberate, like he is trapped in a memory he cannot stop replaying. “Trying to get back that time when you was mine… in another life” sounds less like simple nostalgia than regret tangled with fantasy. Then, when he admits, “you was never mine,” the line lands like a quiet truth he has been avoiding. It is one of the album’s most emotionally direct moments.
Across tracks like “No Secrets,” “BackStreet Girls PT 2,” and “All Day All Night,” the same cycle keeps returning: desire, connection, confusion, distance, then back again. The story is not clean, which is exactly why it works. Love, lust, and heartbreak rarely arrive in order. They blur together, contradict each other, and leave people acting against their own better judgment. Dutch does not try to make that chaos neat. He lets it stay complicated.
Is the project perfect? No. Some moments are rough around the edges, and a few ideas feel like they could have gone further. Still, that looseness is part of what makes it feel lived in. This is not an album to admire from a distance. It is one to sit with, question, and maybe argue with a little.
Anyone who has texted the wrong person, missed someone who brought more pain than peace, or tried to outrun feelings with distractions will probably recognize themselves here. Run Distant Lover 4: Love Lust & Heartbreak all the way through and see which part of the cycle you are in right now.